


All You Have To Do Is Sing

by Goth_Loli



Series: Symposium [1]
Category: Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors
Genre: 2nd Movement begins in chapter 6, Changing Tenses, Character Development, Coming of Age, F/M, Feminist Yautja yes seriously and it only gets more valid, Graphic Depictions of Illness, It Gets Better, Language Barrier, POV First Person, Sick Character, Stream of Consciousness, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Yautja OCs, main character starts out unable to think straight, original work had 5 chapters, our MC gets problematic but who hasnt?, practically slavery if you think about it so don't think about it, the main character will think about it for you and in fact it'll be a while until she can stop, the tags WILL change and you WONT like it because you WILL get sad and you WILL get mad, we're gonna earn our Yautja speaking skills in this story folks, world building becomes more cohesive as the story goes on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-07-27 16:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20049229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goth_Loli/pseuds/Goth_Loli
Summary: "You have your Mother's voice," he said, petting his little daughters head, "It couldn't save her, but by damn it'll save you."(Cross-posted on FFNET)





	1. All You Have To Do Is Sing

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this on FFNET which started as a one-shot until several people said they were interested in the basic set up I presented. It became my most popular work, until I fell off the face of the planet after the most tragic case of my-highschool-laptop-caught-fire known to man. I lost a lot of work that I meant to upload, so I left off halfway where I was taking it. Now that I'm back, I figured I would start migrating the only chaptered story I ever wrote over to AO3, as at the time I originally wrote it, this website was still fairly new and not as popular as it is now. Eventually, the chapters will be simultaneously updated but in the meantime, yall are woefully behind, since this is the first oneshot turned chapter.

I was born sick.

Even before my mother collapsed, or went into labor, I was terribly sick from the second it was too late to terminate me. I was born a parasite that killed my Mother from the inside out.

My first few memories are of white lab coats and bright white lights. And my Father's face.

I was born on the ship Heavenfall. It was named after the great Captain Roderick Heavenfall. The first person to go into space the way people of the past only saw in movies or television. He was a revolutionary.

Fast-forward a few centuries. The Heavenfall was a military vessel. Half cruise ship. Military personnel could bring their families with proper documents and authorizations. So many had done so that it wasn't surprising when babies began to live and grow here. It was so huge, with so many people, some called it a floating Earth.

Father said that Mother hated it when they said that. He said that she said that nothing could ever replace Earth. She wanted me to be born on earth.

Anyway, Father was a high ranking scientist. He spent days upon days in his laboratories (because they were many) on the Classified Floors of the ship. One day, he says, some of his University chums got him to go out and enjoy some social interaction.

Heavenfall has just about everything. A pool, a garden, a park, a theater, a school…you name it, it has it. Father's friends lead him to a posh nightclub on one of the more prestigious floors, it was called the Canary.

Father had a few drinks, but he said he didn't enjoy himself. That is until, the evening's entertainment began.

Mother is very beautiful. I've seen her pictures and all of Father's recordings. She's gorgeous. Father says that when he saw her onstage, he thought he had died and gone to heaven.

He also says that when he heard her voice, he was practically positive she was an angel.

I'm completely sure that Mother and Father were very happy together. I've seen all the recordings, the adoration in their eyes is unmistakable. Father misses her terribly. Sometimes I see him cry.

It makes me wish I wasn't born.

My dear Mother was the carrier of a fatal illness. The mere minute I began to form in this vast universe, she became infected. The doctors told her that having me would surely kill her, but she told them that if she was already infected, she was going to die anyway.

My dear Mother. I heard she was in such great pain in the last months of my term. At first, she had merely been tired. She, who had always been active and vibrant. Then the pains started. I heard that it was like I was eating her alive. But she wouldn't let me go.

I was her baby.

And she wasn't going to let a disease kill us both.

I love her for this reason.

When I was born, she only had time to name me.

Then she died.

Then I had to go to immediate care.

My first few years I was bald as if I were still a baby. I didn't speak because who could teach me the midst of emergency surgery and emergency surgery.

I was tested, and tested, and tested…

Then I was examined and put into observation.

It was then that I began to live.

My darling Father had a room made up for me. An actual room, not a medical room. He wanted to teach me everything about being a child. He wanted me to live. Live the same way my Mother did.

I never liked the lab coats. Or the Doctors. Neither did he. He hated it when they interrupted our play time. They always wanted to test me or observe me. I felt like an experiment.

I was just sick.

Needles and medication and vaccine. Maybe we shouldn't have been so mad at them. It was all this that kept me alive. I think it was the fact that they were a constant reminder that I wasn't a healthy, normal, child that made us mad at them.

I told you that my Father was a high-ranking scientist, right?

Well, I discovered what that meant when I was 12.

His military higher-ups demanded him to stop loving me. They needed him for a big and important operation. Father didn't want to, but his hands were tied. How could he keep paying world-renowned doctors to find cures for me if he didn't work? Poor Father…

I was so lonely every time he left. No child would play with me. The doctors weren't people I liked. Besides, every time he left, it gave them the chance to test me as much as they wanted.

I would wait for him to come back.

"Did you hear how the Yautja project is going…?"

I never spoke if it wasn't with Father, but I understood as any child would.

Father told me it was very important what he was doing. It would soften the gap between Human and Yautja relations.

"But I wish I could spend more time with you, regardless," dear Father, he was always so apologetic when he came back.

Whenever I got really lonely, I watched Father's recordings of him and Mother. I would always get sad after that. I want so bad to meet Mother…

I wasn't as beautiful as she was. I was deathly pale. And I was weak. She was so active, I could barely move without wearing out. She seemed so sure of herself and so smart. Some called me shy, but I knew very well that the truth was that I didn't trust anyone other than Father.

One thing I did have, though, is that Father would always say how I was an exceptionally genius child. I understood everything. This made me happy because it made him proud, and because I felt like my mother that way. She was smart to. And her voice was beautiful.

I liked to watch her sing.

I began to wonder…could I sing like her too?

When I got too lonely without Father, or too sad at watching their recordings, I tried it.

To myself I wasn't so bad. I never had an audience.

I sang some more, whenever I felt lonely and sad. The Doctors tried to make a big deal of it, once, but I refused to answer their stupid questions.

"Why have you started singing?"

I glared at them.

"Singing can be a very positive outlet, something to help improve your condition."

I still glared.

It was always my condition. Testing. Observing.

I sang because I wanted to. I never answered them.

They left me alone, and I started singing again.

"You're singing!" My Father came once when I was in the middle of singing, "My dear, how lovely!"

I smiled at him. He didn't make it sound like I was an experiment doing something new.

"Once more, my dear, so I can hear."

I was more than happy to sing for him.

I sang.

And then it hurt.

There was a big, strong pain in my stomached. My head screamed and I could hardly breathe. Everything became so blurry. The only thing I could hear was my Father's shouts.

I felt like my first few years again.

A blur of lab coats and white light enveloped me. I tried to find my Father. When I didn't, I was scared. For days, maybe, I didn't understand what was going on. There was nothing but blurs and blurs…

I woke up to my Father shouting.

"I'm not going without my Daughter this time!" I could see that he was talking to one of his higher-ups. "I don't care how important this is! You can forget me if she's not on board!"

Father didn't trust the Doctors anymore. He wanted me to go with him to the higher floors. He would pick his own team to watch over me. I would go wherever he went.

I said goodbye to my room, and we took an elevator with special clearance up to Level A.

It was here that I first saw a Yautja.

I was always on high medication now, but I saw him all the same. My Father had to go meet him with a pack of other military officials. I met every senator and every commander.

The Yautja came with a pack, also.

Father said he came with Arbitrators, special soldiers that were like police, bodyguards, and judges all at once. There was also a bunch of Elders. These where Yautja that had lived to be very honored and respected.

They were like skyscrapers to me. They were shiny with golden armor and long red capes. They had scales of sandy color. I couldn't understand them. Father said they were here on diplomatic negotiations. One of Father's colleagues, Dr. Alexander, said that diplomatic negotiations were not in a Yautja's dictionary and that we were just fooling ourselves. He said that what they really want was to kill us all.

I slept in a corner of one of Fathers laboratories, the one he was in the most. He kept an eye one me and gave me all my medications on the dot. They made me drowsy. He said that they made me better. Or at least stop me from getting worse.

"Sing for me, dear?" one day he asked.

I hadn't sung for days. Father was very tired with the negotiations.

So, I sang for him.

When I felt good enough to walk, I would explore a little. Sometimes I would sing to pass the time.

"It's good that your singing, dear," Father said once, when he was really tired at looking at a monitor. I saw black circles under his eyes, "You should sing whenever you feel like it. It's nothing to be ashamed about, you should share it with everyone."

I think I reminded him of my Mother when I sang. He always looked like he was going to cry.

That, and because I was dying.

Father would take me everywhere he went. He gave me special pills to take so I wouldn't get tired. I don't think his higher-ups liked that. Everyone in a military suit would always look uncomfortable when I came inside a room.

I tried not to bother them, so I always went to some corner or stood far away. They seemed to appreciate it, Father was concerned about keeping an eye on me.

Once, when they all got into a large office with a long, long table, I sat on the farthest corner I could. The Yautja were late that day. I heard one of the Senators tell one of the Commanders that they were finally getting tired of sitting and talking.

"Did you see how the black one didn't even want to look at us? He stood the entire meeting!"

"They were impatient," the commander shook his head, "I can see war all over their faces…"

"They were annoyed with everything we said!" An Ambassador nervously clawed at the red-oak table, "This is going to end bad, I know it!"

Naturally, this made Father upset.

So, I sang.

I knew they didn't like it. It made them remember I was here, so it made them ten times more uncomfortable. But Father looked calmer.

Soon I wandered into my own thoughts. Singing made me do that.

I didn't notice anyone.

I didn't notice the double-doors open.

"Elders, Arbitrator Su'ete…"

I kept singing until I finished.

When I looked up, I noticed that everyone looked even more nervous. The Yautja hadn't taken a seat yet. I looked towards Father. He seemed alright.

"Right then…please, come in…"

The Yautja did so.

At first, I paid attention to all the meetings, but they became so boring and the same. It appeared that the Yautja didn't want to negotiate, so whatever the ambassadors said or whatever the commanders offered to do didn't interest them. They seemed as bored as me.

After the meeting (which was such a failure that surely the committee would become even more nervous) Father came to me.

"Dear, would you mind singing again?"

Of course I didn't mind.

As Father lead me out of the office room, me singing along, I noticed he glanced at each Yautja. I did so, too, but didn't understand why.

Afterwards, I heard a Secretary talking to his friend as they passed the hall, "That damn Arbitrator looked like he was going to pounce every time that girl sang…"

This could've been alarming, but I remembered how calm Father looked so I didn't mind it.

With every day that passed, I felt more tired. Father would give me more and more medication. "Be damned what Alexander says," he would say, sometimes injecting something in me that was supposed to make me hurt less.

Once in a while, Father sent me to sing in specific places. "Go to Sector 9, dear." or "Here's a pass to Level H, if anyone catches you, just act like your lost".

I would go there and sing, but I didn't get why.

One day, Father did something bold. "Come dear," he said that day, "We're going to Floor Zero."

Floor Zero was heavily restricted. I had never been there. This floor was were the Yautja resided.

Apparently, something on board their ship was damaged, and although they hated asking for it, they needed help.

My Father was a high-ranking scientist. Of course he would go. What everyone else didn't understand, was why he brought me along with him on the most dangerous place on all of Heavenfall.

He was preoccupied, when he got there.

Everyone on Father's team was charged with fixing the machine…while secretly trying to download a way to reverse engineer it. The Yautja weren't stupid, so there were a bunch on board, eying their every move.

Father wasn't stupid either. I could see he already had half the data on them and a whole platter of blueprints downloaded.

But he was preoccupied, and I was bored. So I kept a distance and looked around.

The Yautja didn't look friendly and the other scientists were sweating rivers.

I sang to pass the time.

I sang a whole set of songs before Father knelt before me and said we could go back. He looked very happy, so I was happy too.

When we were leaving, I noticed a Yautja was staring intently at us.

I was terribly sick the next day. Father was close at my side, telling me not to worry. He said all I needed to do was sing. I didn't get it, but he repeated his answer anyway.

In fact, he became frenzied with it.

"You must sing, my dear," Father said, "Sing and sing!"

I didn't understand why. But I did so, I sang for my Father. Things became blurry again in those days. There were blurs of lab coats sometimes, but mostly just black splotches of nothing. I had a fever for what felt like a lifetime. Whenever I felt better, Father told me to sing.

He insisted I sing. He even hired a tutor to help me sing. She was a nice old lady, she kept telling Father I was too tired to sing, but he would insist. I sang as much as I could, and even I could tell that I was getting better at it.

"Why do you want to force it?" I heard her tell him once, "She already sings amazingly."

"She must sing," was his answer, "She must sing like an Angel."

Like an Angel. Like my Mum.

I sang even more.

One day, there was a banquet.

The Assembly decided that what was really itching on the Yautja's nerve was just that – nerves. They were grouchy and tired. So to please them, they held a dinner party.

Elegant, rich, everything Yautja weren't. I thought it stupid. They called it politics.

Anyway, it was exciting to watch them make a huge party out of it. There were fine round tables, and amazing pieces of tapestry. They emptied out the most expensive restaurant for the reception. I saw where there was going to be live entertainment. The Yaujta would be seated in a special corner of the room that let them see everything. The Ambassador of the President planned special performances that mirrored Yautja culture.

"I heard it was all drums and dancing over in their planet," He told the Planner, "So we're going to do this like they do down in Africa."

This initially upset Father. Perhaps because the thought it racist.

But I wonder if it were because he thought I wouldn't be able to sing because of the strict dancing and instrumentation rule.

"I demand that my daughter be set to sing!" Father had been pushing to get me to perform for days.

The Ambassador said it didn't go with the theme.

"My Daughter," Father seethed at him, "Must SING!"

I don't know how he did it, but they let me be on the performance schedule. Looking back at it now, I suppose it was because Father still hadn't given them the blueprints stolen from the Yautja ship. Blackmail didn't seem so bad when Father did it.

He just really wanted me to sing.

So I prepared, day after day, Father instructing me to practice diligently. If I felt tired, he had me rest. He wanted me in perfect condition when I sang at the banquet.

It was a lovely dinner party. The first I had ever been invited to. I got a nice red dress, red like the Yautja capes. Father had me go to a hairdresser. I was even allowed to wear a little makeup. Father said I looked lovely.

Like my Mother.

I felt great all day.

The dinner was for the most part, pleasant. Me and Father sat far from the Yautja (something he didn't like) but when the hour came closer to my performance, he seemed excited.

The dancing was extraordinary. Some of the ladies twirled sticks set on fire. There was a lively beat always. Sometimes the dancing was wild, other times it was slow and sad. The Yautja seemed partially impressed, but not all together intrigued. They seemed more amused every time they began commenting with each other. Probably saying how their dancers where better than ours.

"Remember, my dear," he said before I went backstage, "like an Angel."

I nodded at him.

"One more thing," he added, "Don't be afraid to look at the Yautja."

I found that odd, but nodded anyway.

I had never been afraid of the Yautja.

When I got onstage I felt butterflies in my stomach. I initially thought that I was getting sick again, but I realized it was just jitters. Everyone's eyes were on me. I thought of my Mother.

I began to sing.

Like an Angel.

Like my Mother.

I watched how proud my Father looked. He was about to cry.

Everyone seemed impressed.

Then I remembered.

I looked at the Yautja.

Why my Father thought I'd be afraid to look at them was beyond me. I found them interesting, to say the least. They seemed to enjoy my singing.

But I never questioned Father.

I sang a few more songs before I went back down.

Father embraced me in the middle of applause and cheers. I didn't think people would like it that much. Maybe they were just astonished that a girl so young could sing the way I could. I was barely a teenager.

"Excellent, my dear," Father whispered to me. I smiled and felt infinitely happy, "Just like your Mother."

I was glad I was finally like my Mother.

The day after that Father became much more special with me. He smiled more, gave me chocolates, he even gave me loads of presents. I was happy that Father was happy.

"Things are looking up," my dear Father would say, "Soon, we might even go back to Earth!"

Earth.

Imagine. Me. A little girl, a child, I had only heard of earth like a fantasy place. A fairytale. The place Mother wanted me to live.

I was thrilled.

I sang even more.

This made Father even more happy. He would even sing with me. I began to imagine…is this how normal families are? Happy, carefree, united? I believed so. Every time I watched Fathers recordings, I wouldn't be so sad anymore. I was sure Mother was happily watching us.

One night I dreamed of Mother…

She was gorgeous. Even more so than in the recordings and pictures. She was wearing white, and we were in a field. I knew it was Earth. My home.

"My dear…" she said, caressing my cheek. I was so happy to see her. "You are so beautiful, I'm so proud…Don't cry."

I woke up in excruciating pain.

Everything hurt. I thought I was going to die.

Poor Father. He was so worried. So desperate.

Lab coats and blurs were all I could see. I hated syringes. I hated needles. Bile came from my throat and I wanted to cry. Mother said not to.

"My dear, hang on!" oh, Father, I wish I hadn't seen you so stricken, so desperate, "You can't go now! Not now! Not when you can get better!"

I was unconscious for half of these days. The other half I only wished I was. Father was tearing his hair out, he looked like a zombie. I probably looked worse.

"Stay with me, my dear…" I saw him crying once. In the middle of the night, "Stay…"

I tried to look for Mother. I couldn't find her.

Then I heard her say, "You're not ready yet…"

I woke up again to my father shouting.

"WHAT TO YOU MEAN?" whoever was on the other end of the COM link was not getting the better end of the argument. "I thought that – "

"Sir, I'm afraid –"

"NO! things were going FINE –"

"But you know how they are –"

"What kind of IDIOTS do they hire in the Committee? BLOODY IDIOTS!"

"Doctor –"

Father terminated the transmission.

He saw I was awake and raced towards me.

"My dear…" he looked happy, but sorrow captured his face. My dear Father collapsed in a chair next to my bed, his hands covering his face, "Oh God…God…Oh, God…"

I didn't understand what God had done.

Or maybe Father was actually trying to talk to Him.

In any case, Father cried all night.

Perhaps I was going to die.

I barely began to regain whatever strength was left in me.

The doctors said that there was nothing more they could do. I was now a lost cause. A miracle would be nice, but God might be busy with others. I think they only said the last part because Father was a devote Catholic and it bothered them.

I was sitting in a chair when Father came bursting through the door.

"Come, dear," he said, taking me by the hands in earnest, "Yautja and Human relations might fail, but I will not fail you!"

He gave me more medication. Everyone had told him to stop, but he continued. Damning them all. He said that I was going to live. If Father said so, I believed it.

He insisted that I eat and drink. Insisted I take the medication even if I hated the taste.

"Come, now, my dear, make an effort…"

I was tired. I made an effort.

Blurry. Everything was blurry.

"My dear, you must gather your strength!"

Strength I never had, mind you.

"Your strength so that you may sing!"

Sing…

Sing and sing and sing. Why must I sing? Perhaps to make him happy. I liked to sing. My Mother sang.

I held on to singing. When blackness covered my eyes when they were open, I thought of singing. When shadows suffocated my lungs the thought of singing kept me awake. I needed to sing. I needed to get better. I told myself to breathe. To try.

Mother…Father…singing…

I woke up one day with a gasp.

My head hurt, I had a fever, but I was better.

"Come, dear…"

Father lead me to a hallway. Things were blurry, but I followed.

We stopped someplace I couldn't remember. I felt sleepy.

"Sing, my dear…"

I sang Ave Maria.

As I sang I closed my eyes and thought of a beautiful place. Heaven or Earth, I wasn't sure, but it was lovely.

He carried me home.

I sang day after day. Although Father smiled, he looked incredibly sad.

One day he knelt before me. I had been singing, but when I looked at his face I quickly stopped. He was very serious.

"You have your Mother's voice," he said, petting my head, "It couldn't save her, but by damn it'll save you."

If singing could've saved my Mother, I wondered if we would've been happier.

Father became a man on a mission for the days that came. I heard that Yautja/Human relations were getting worse by the second. I guess it was like Dr. Alexander said, negotiation wasn't in their dictionary.

The night before Summer (seasons were scheduled on the Heavenfall), father sat beside me on my bed.

We started at nothingness for a while, then he hugged me. I felt something sad and terrible tighten around my heart. Father was sad.

My illness had always been terminal. I was set to die.

We slept soundlessly.

My Father made such a grand breakfast the morning of Summer. I ate it all. We laughed for the first time since I was born.

I didn't know what was going through his head, but when he said we were going for a walk, I took his hand without questioning.

We walked passed all the parks, all the pools, all the schools, all the gardens…

Floor Zero was practically deserted.

Yautja/Human relations were so bad, they couldn't coexist in the same diplomatic floor anymore.

We walked for a while. I saw no Yautja. No human.

Father stopped suddenly. I waited.

He knelled before me. I saw in his face an uncontrollable shaking.

"I hope you don't hate me, my dear…" his voice was scarce and rough, "What I do is to save your life…"

I believed it when he said it was to save my life. Father never lied.

Hesitantly, he lifted his hand. I saw it shaking as if he were sick. I noticed for the first time that Father looked very thin.

He patted my head and ran his fingers through my hair. "Yautja can't sing…" He had tears in his eyes. "I heard they're fascinated with our singers, especially the women. They couldn't sing to save their life…"

He chuckled, hallow, and miserable, "They think 'Ooman females' sound like deities when they sing…"

"…Like Angels?" I asked.

Father smiled. He always smiled when I talked.

"Yes, my dear…like Angels…"

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a Yautja standing in front of us. He stood at a distance, but he stared, arms crossed.

Father glanced at him.

Then he looked at me, "His name is Su'ete, he's an Arbitrator, remember what that is?"

I nodded. A policeman, a bodyguard, a judge, all at once…

Father hugged me again.

"You are my Daughter, my dear," he said, crying profusely, "My daughter! All I want is for you to live! I swear it!"

As I saw the Yautja passed the shoulder of my Father, I began to tear up.

Father made me look back at him, his eyes serious, "He will take care of you. I have his word by his Honor. To Yautja that is special. Don't ever be afraid."

I nodded.

But I didn't want to.

I wanted to be afraid.

"I love you, my dear…"

Father stood up and guided me toward the Yautja.

He held me firmly at the shoulders, together we walked slowly towards the Arbitrator. Su'ete. A Yautja.

Would it be silly to tell you I still didn't understand what was going on? When it came to Father I choose not to understand, because I knew that he knew what was best. I understood everything else, except things my Father did. I accepted what my Father did, nothing more.

But then, I understood. I understood everything my Father told me. I understood his reasons.

But I did not want to understand.

I was thirteen.

When we made it to the Yautja, with his golden armor and long red cape, Father kissed the top of my head. I felt him let go.

"You'll take care of her. I have your Honor."

I heard the Yautja nod.

I stared at nothing. I thought of nothing. I felt scared.

Fathers arms wrapped themselves around me one last time.

"All you have to do is sing, my dear…all you have to do is sing…like your Mother…like an Angel…just sing…"

I heard the roaring of an engine. The Yautja ship was getting ready to leave.

Father let go of me, the Yautja grabbed on to me.

As he led me away, I would forever remember my Father's face.

He was hands and knees on the floor, reaching out to me, tears on his face.

"Daddy…"

I reached for him.

"Daddy!"

My hair was wild in the wind the Yautja ship created. My Father cried with me.

I understood.

I understand.

To save me, my father had to sell me.

My voice would make me a Canary.

Once upon a time, my Father thought that if Yautja/Human relations came through, they would share their medicine and he would find a cure for me. But since that was ceasing to be the case…

I was taken from Heavenfall to go to a place some would call Hell, never to see Earth.

Yautja were more advanced than humans. They could cure my illness. Su'ete would cure my illness…

That was the deal. He would cure me, make me better, make me live.

All I had to do was sing.

But I would miss my Father…


	2. Canary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally i asked my followers if they wanted me to just save everyone the trouble and just translate Yautja speech, so this was a sampler. They decided that they liked how i made the language barrier a thing, and there's nothing I love more than inconveniencing my own damn characters.

They say that I only survived because an Arbitrator took me in. I think it was my voice that really saved me.

At least, at first.

I will always be amazed at how quickly things began. The Yautja was quick with leading me into the ship. I heard the hanger close knowing I'd never see my Father again. Yet, everything continued to move forward. I wasn't allowed a moment for sadness. I was only allowed shock.

The Yautja had his strong hand clenched to my right shoulder as he took brisk steps. With all the purpose of the world he walked. Confident.

I remember a slight pain. Possible bruising. He led me onwards.

At that moment I hadn't the mind to care about what was going on. Nor could I have comprehended it anyway. My thoughts whirled.

However, now I can remember and muse upon the finer parts of my first steps into Yautja Society. And also my first glimpse on who exactly was my new Owner.

As we walked further into the Yautja Ship, we passed three more Yautja. We caught their attention sure enough.

They called out to the one who held fast to my shoulder. I felt him tighten his grip.

They asked him what I was doing here.

"_I bought her."_

I appreciated his honesty.

Things were as simple as that. He answered them without pausing his gait. I didn't know their reactions. So powerful and confident was this Yautja. He could've entered with a hoard of children. I doubt that would have stopped him from walking.

The Yautja Ship was dark. I was led further in.

The world was filled with black shadows and low gleaming lights. And faces I wanted to hide from. These were my first few steps.

The first day, he let me mourn the loss of my Father.

I was silent.

The Yautja Arbitrator's room was huge. I don't remember what was in it. I do know that there was a window the size of the world.

Through the window, I saw the _Heavenfall_ become smaller and smaller. As it shrunk, I realized. I would really never see Father again. Ever.

The fact the he was gone was surreal. No. The fact that _**I **_was gone was grasping.

I thought of it like a person dying. As she separated from her body, her soul would look down at her corpse and feel at odds.

I looked down at _Heavenfall_. My corpse.

I was once there. Now I won't be. I was here. Away.

I felt at odds.

Throughout that day, I sat close to that window. I hugged my knees. I was at a corner. One small corner of the vast piece of glass. It was cold where my arm was.

Sometimes I would look into the loneliness of space. Other times I looked at the friendlessness of my knees.

As I rested my head on the glass, I thought of it breaking. How easy it would end if the glass broke. I would be sucked into nothingness and die. Easy. And simple.

Strange thoughts for a child my age.

The second day, he came to me.

I don't remember him sleeping. Or leaving. Or arriving.

I had been next to the window since I got there. I don't think I slept.

He knelt before me.

My eyes fruitlessly looked at cold glass. His visors. He still had his mask on.

I traced his every movement as he lifted both hands up to his head. He placed his black claws at either side of the mask. I nearly started at the sound of a hiss. White smoke came from his head. His mask lowered.

His eyes were green.

My eyes trailed every mark on his face until I reached his mouth.

His mandibles flared. He roared at me.

I should've jumped. Instead I blink slower than usual.

Maybe I was tired.

The Yautja rumbled. Again, he lifted one of his hands. He touched the base of my throat with his talons. He slid it upwards to my chin. Slowly.

I was confused.

He did it again. And huffed.

Oh.

He wanted me to sing.

Ah, singing. The reason I was here. I wasn't allowed to be miserable anymore. I had a job to do. A person buys merchandise for a reason.

I sang the first thing that came to mind.

To my ears, it sounded hollow. But it wasn't. I sang with feeling. I sang missing Father.

When I finished, the Yautja stood up.

He seemed satisfied.

I knew the reason I was here. He wanted to make sure.

I can imagine how annoying it would have been to have a child around that didn't know she had just been bought. Her crying would've been bothersome.

He left.

I sang again. Alone.

It didn't seem hollow.

I sang my Father goodbye. My past Goodbye.

From then on, I had to sing fully. Or he would get tired of a soulless voice.

Then where would Father's efforts go? To waste.

I couldn't do that.

I needed to live.

I needed to Sing.

For Daddy.

He came back again. Later in the day (or night, I'm not sure). He didn't tell me to sing.

He did so the next day. And the next. He only came to sleep. So it seemed. I had dosed off a few times. I wondered if it was nap time, or night time, or dream time.

He seemed fine with me staying next to the window. I was dreadfully cold.

This could have gone the same for three days.

The third day he came back. He seemed upset.

He walked briskly, but with an air of grimace. I watched him. He stopped at a nest of skins and cloths. I began to question why I hadn't thought of going there to get at least some warmth.

He sat on top of these bundles of cushions, heavily releasing a loud thump as he did so. His arms outstretched and rested on the pile around him. He leaned his head back. For seconds he glared at the ceiling.

With a growl he turned his head. He gestured for me to sing.

I did so.

He repeated it and I sang again.

His eyes continued to stare off into the ceiling. He looked sleepy. He folded his arm under his head, and I was singing once more. He closed his eyes.

I thought I sung him to sleep.

I was in the middle of one of my favorite melodies.

That's where the pain started.

I screamed louder than I thought myself capable. I never felt so much agony.

It began in my stomach.

I clawed at it.

I thought maybe I could tear my insides out. It might hurt less.

Then my head screeched.

I shook my head madly.

I wanted the vultures out of my brain.

I remember my nails drawing lines of blood at my arms.

I was dying.

I was finally dying.

Pain engulfed me. Breathing was a foreign practice to me. I felt fast movement. I was being taken somewhere.

Blurs.

I said hello to blurs again.

My life had always been blurs.

I was going to die in blurs.

Blurs of figures. Looking down at me. Carrying me. I felt metal. At my back. I felt nails going through my body. Ripping me apart.

Blurs of voices. Voices I didn't understand. Would I ever? Foreign voices. Alien voices.

Father…

Blurs.

Blurs and blurs. I began to panic.

Where was Father?

In my life of blurs, Father was always there.

Father was always with me.

Where was Father now?

I screamed.

In my head.

Out loud.

My scream was a blur.

Bright lights in between thick black. Silhouettes of beings. I wanted my Father. I had no one to reach for.

I didn't want to die.

I felt needles. Needles and vaccines. Medication. I thought of the Doctors.

I hated the Doctors.

Blurs of electricity. It went through me. The air was thick.

Needles and needles and needles.

I heard machines.

I heard voices.

I heard knives.

Blurs.

All of it.

I smelt blood. My blood.

For a moment.

A fleeting moment.

I felt a pang of pain. Raw. Cold. Pain.

My soul lifted.

I turned my head and saw myself.

I went crashing down.

I drowned in myself. I coughed my soul. Sputtered out my heart. Reached for God.

I saw Mother.

I asked her how Father was doing.

She called me silly.

I fainted. Into Limbo. Into the place between Heaven and Hell.

My brain whirled. Puking seemed possible, but only in theory. Reality was a concept. Not an action. Life was an abstract idea.

Fancy that, life being abstract.

I woke in blurs.

I remember my first thought.

Am I dead now?

Of course I wasn't. How silly of me.

I didn't realize it until a little after, though.

My eyes were up against a harsh light. A dark shadow came from the corner of my view. I thought perhaps it might be God. Then again, wouldn't god be shining? I supposed it was the Devil then. But since it was so bright, I thought I could've been in between gates.

Turns out I was at neither.

I was laying on a bed.

The Yautja standing next to me was the same one who bought me.

His head was shadowed by the light above the room.

I dimly recall being connected to a machine. Being wired by IV and such. Feeling tired.

I looked up at the Yautja.

"_Nan-ku."_

He said.

Alive.

I learned later that _Nan-ku _meant Alive.

I was Alive.

How nice.

I was well enough to sit up. Then to eat.

Yautja Healers gathered around me. They didn't really seem interested in my health. Rather that they had succeeded. Like they knew they would have. They had no doubts. This was only protocol.

I wanted to smile when I thought of the Doctors.

But I had no Father to hate them with me.

My Owner stood at a distance. Staring. Arms crossed.

He didn't seem concerned. He was more expecting. He was waiting for me to get up and stop being a baby.

I wouldn't disappoint.

I stood. I walked.

Looking back at it now, I think the Healers were impressed. Impressed at me trying to be brave. Trying. Because I was still but a child.

I'm sure they thought it best for me to remain in bed. For observation. Testing.

But my Owner had seen enough.

He stalked towards me. Huge and in charge.

He glared down at me. I thought he was glaring, at least. It didn't matter. He nudged his head. With one swift movement he began to walk.

I followed.

The world was still dark with eerie glowing colors, but I felt as if the blurs were fading away.

The corridors and hallways continued until we made it to some form of elevator. I looked around and noticed everything made with some sort of strange metal. I wondered how they could see in so much darkness.

When we got off on floor number whatever it was, he continued onwards and I followed as the lamb I was.

Doors slid open. We were back at his room.

By now _Heavenfall_ was gone. Stars glowed. The only light in what would've been darkness. I wondered if all Yautja rooms had windows as big as this one.

I looked up at the Yautja. I doubted it.

He began walking again, to the place with a thousand cushions and pillows. I noticed that it wasn't his bed. It was more like a nest. If one would replace the furs and skins with bean bag chairs it would've made more sense to me.

Anyway, he made it there and began stalking the pile for a minute. I was close by.

He glanced at me, and then at a random pillow.

Crouching down, he took one and throw it a short distance away from the nest.

It only took me a second to realize the gesture.

I laid myself down, bringing the cushion closer. It was big enough to make myself comfortable. My upper body anyway.

He threw me a fur next. And with that his hospitality and himself went to the other side of the room.

I thought of it as a step forward. Or backward. In the right direction or the left. In any case it was a step.

I felt tired.

I remember tracing the intricate embroidery. I moved my finger to the floor of blue thread and green on top of sand cloth. It reminded me of something I read in a History Book. Or a fairytale. Genies that came from lamps…princesses and magic carpets…

I didn't know I was going to have my first dream that night.

Or rather, my second. If I didn't count the one with Mother.

But I felt that the one with Mother wasn't a dream. It was real.

So this was my first.

Regardless, it took me awhile to actually get there. I vaguely tried to focus on things hanging from the ceiling above. I wanted to see where the Yautja slept.

It wasn't important, though. Right now, I didn't have to remember any of it because it would never be significant.

So I slept. I dreamed.

If I tallied my winnings, I would've been at three.

I was Alive, for one.

I had somewhere to sleep. (A pillow and a blanket right next to a nest full of comfortable furs and cushions. But a step is a step is a step.)

And I was beginning to have a memory.

Back when I was dying, my life was foggy. I remembered things that were important. Everything else fell back into blurs.

Details that interested me where archived. But they weren't completely vivid.

My illness had always made it clear that having memories and focusing on things was useless. My mind was always more preoccupied with trying to survive. I was going to die anyway.

But now that I wasn't the fog began to clear.

I was finally allowed to gather data and put it to use. Of course, it wouldn't be in an academic sense. I was nothing more than a pet now. One that could've one day gone to Harvard, but still.

The point is that now that I was cured, I had the ability to use everything I had at maximum value. I would never feel tired when I found something out and I wouldn't appear to be distracted when I put two and two together in my mind.

I had no way of knowing then, but this was crucial to my survival.

The days that continued were much like the three days before my supposed Death Bed.

The Yautja would come and go. I would not notice when in either case.

I spent a lot of my time sleeping.

I still needed time to recover. I had decided that I rather do it by myself then with the Healers.

They reminded me too much of the Doctors. It provoked my dislike.

My Owner would bring me nourishment. It came in the form of fruits.

I would catch it (because he always threw it) and eat.

I never gave it much thought. Food was food and I doubted that he would poison me.

It was always enough to fill me up. Some, if it was juicy enough, to quench my thirst as well.

Once or twice he had to bring me water. It tasted strange but it was good enough.

I wasn't in a position to complain.

He always appeared to be irritated. Sometimes he would stare at me with distorted features on his face.

These were obscure times for me.

Sometimes when I tried to save some of the food he gave me, he would growl. I had to eat everything or else he wouldn't stop glaring at me. The reason I tried to save the food was just in case he didn't come for a long time and I would be hungry.

He would give me a lot to eat.

Other times he gave me little.

He would make sure I ate one day and the next he would give me my rations and leave.

Unpredictable. Irritably so.

As said before, he always looked angry. Some invisible torment irked him to no end.

When I got better, I noticed something else.

He hadn't asked me to sing.

I thought that maybe this was what my life would be like. Days would go without me singing, and I would only do so if it suited his fancy.

But this wouldn't do. I was sure one day he would get bored of me that way.

But I was still too new to this world to know how to proceed.

I pondered on these thoughts and focused on my health.

The day came when he was in his fouler moods. When he came in, he seemed ready for blood.

I saw his claws clench to the point I was sure there would _be_ blood.

Surely, I should have been afraid. His growls were fierce enough.

Then again, I remembered my Father.

Don't ever be afraid, he said.

With an angry Yautja in the room I wondered how to apply that.

Thinking of Father led to more thoughts of him.

Days Father was irritated happened from time to time. The Board of Directors had a habit of annoying their employees. Often my poor Father was overworked. Tired.

I wondered if Yautja were overworked. If _this_ Yautja was overworked. Tired, perhaps. Annoyed.

I would sing for my Father.

That always made him feel better in those days.

Now, this Yautja, however my Owner he may be, would never be Father. The mere thought was a joke.

Still, a Canary is meant to Sing.

So that's what I did.

When I looked up after finishing, he was there. On his furs and pillows.

He regarded me silently for minutes.

Then he bobbed his head.

I sang again.

I realized he had been cautious with me.

I had just come out of the very claws of Death, my condition (how I hated the word) was still up to debate.

I summarized the idea that he had been concerned. He must've thought that if I strained myself too much, he would lose his prize. So he had not asked me to Sing in these days to make sure it would not damage me.

Sick leave, I mused.

He was still treading on a just in case. I saw it in his face, now that it was clear.

Before he ordered me to sing again, he appeared hesitant. When I was done he didn't ask for more. I was apparently done for the day.

I found it smart. Like an athlete recovering from a sprain or the like.

As the days progressed, I would Sing a little, then not, then Sing again. I would take it a step at a time until I was back to tip top shape.

At first, he was still uneasy with it. But in short time his demand was casual.

Like a true coach, he would demand my fullest effort.

Yautja should know a thing or two about the process of recovery. They were athletes themselves.

When he was finally satisfied with knowing I was better than okay, things began to become routine.

Sometimes he would ask me to Sing, other times he would not.

But I also Sung on my own.

I convinced myself that if I left it to him, he would soon grow bored of the trinket that I was and cast me off.

Not exactly beneficial.

So I Sang when I felt like it and Sang when I was Bored.

And I was.

Bored, that is.

I was on an intergalactic space ship, but I only stayed in one room.

I didn't want to run into another Yautja outside. And it seemed like forever when my Owner was away. And even if he was in the room, unless he told me to Sing, things weren't exciting.

So I Sang.

I suppose it was a good strategy. He appeared less irritated.

But this routine was short lived.

I figured I wouldn't spend my life on this Yautja Ship.

I had to go to their Homeworld eventually.

Eventually was now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join us next week where I update the tags, maybe.


	3. Bird Gets a Cage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Yautja Language i use in the meantime of the MC learning it is a mixture of actual vocabulary from fansites and things i had to make up in order to string together coherent sentences. It's not button smashing by any means since there's a method to the madness and root words i took from languages I know that I've modified to fit the aesthetic of the Yautja language if nothing else. It's not perfect by any means, but what is being said can be inferred.

Naïve as I was, I had no idea of the event that was about to transpire.

I was a child and I was bored.

The day came when I was lazily looking at the stars that I finally noticed. My Owner paced the room in agitation. His arms and hands flexed uneasily, and though I would never advise to say so aloud and in front of a Yautja, I would have said he had a bad case of the jitters.

I found it admittedly strange. My Owner was an Arbitrator. He was respected and Honored. He had more power in his pinky than most men have in generations of their families.

So why was he upset?

I would Sing for him, but he seemed so distracted that I doubt he heard me. Other times the mere sound of me Singing made him look even more tense.

Of course, this made _me_ nervous. I felt like pacing the room in a panic myself.

This remained the same for several days. Little did I know of the reason, but I did begin to suspect.

Something big was on the rise. A child can sense these things. And thus, I began to make a list of possible scenarios.

Perhaps he has a disagreement with one of his comrades?

A higher up?

Or rather, he had too much work? Father always had too much work and suffered similar symptoms...

He wasn't Father.

Thinking of my dear Father led me to think about Earth.

Yautja and Human relations must be spiraling down.

Faltering negotiations?

War?

No. I didn't think he'd be overly concerned about war. From what I know of Yautja, they would enjoy war. Why would they need to fear? They laugh at negotiations, humans are nothing to them.

Except for the ones with talent. Those they buy.

Pushing away the irrelevant, I continued to ponder and list.

The stillness gave one time to think in this wandering ship.

Ship.

Ah, there. I realized I had been rather foolish with all my guessing. A ship was a form of transportation, was it not?

I imagined the Yautja home world.

I began to wonder if my destination was set for it. I have grown up on the huge ship _Heavenfall_, but this Yautja ship was nothing like my old vessel. It had no accommodations for living, as far as I had seen.

So this ship was for travel.

To their home? Another planet? A bigger ship?

The days stretched and the shadow of anticipation spread over me. I had never truly experienced an emotion such as this. To live had been, for me, secondary instinct, emotions reserved for my Father and nothing else.

So the days spawned and I stared intently though the window. Wondering. Waiting.

My surroundings nearly became invisible.

Then one day I saw it.

Small at first.

A glimmer of something I thought I was imagining.

It didn't take long for it to no longer be a speck in the distance. Soon, I realized that what I was seeing was exactly what I thought it was.

I'm still surprised at how wide my eyes became when it finally got close enough to see clearly.

The Yautja planet was like a marble among the stars.

Beside me, my Owner let out a huff.

I had not notice Him. When I looked up, He merely glanced at me. He, too, stared upon the world below. His arms were crossed. He no longer looked troubled.

It was His way of telling me. This was my problem. I should worry. Not Him.

I looked back at the planet. As time moved forward, so did the world.

The closer it got I realized how much it resembled the pictures of Earth I had seen.

Greener in some parts. Sandy in others. Bigger.

It looked similar. But everything in it was different. The people. Their ways.

It was not the planet my Mother wanted me to live in.

Sleep had taken over me at some point. I dreamt myself in gold and embraced by gentle hands. But dreamland left in a scuffle. There was no room for it here.

So I slept. For a sort, dreamless time.

When I awoke I noticed things were moving. Or rather, they were being moved.

I turned around on my makeshift beddings.

I saw Yautja. Smaller Yautja than my Owner (must I call him that?). These Yautja were picking and packing things up.

I was briefly reminded of when Father moved me to the higher-up Labs.

I peered through my window. The Yautja world was closer than ever. But we were still not close enough. Not yet.

I remained unmoved in my little piece of space. I huddled closer to the window. My knees where uplifted. Sometimes I looked at the Yautja. Coming and going. Lifting and moving. Other times I watched the world come closer and closer.

It appeared as if the Yautja cared not for my presence. They ignored me.

But all they're working and pushing bothered me. Was I not property of my Yautja Owner? Was I to be packed up?

Of all the things He had. Did they not notice this other trinket laying amongst discarded cloth?

And these Yautja did not look as intimidating as the ones I'd seen before. They were not demanding of respect. They never lifted their heads up high. Why did they move his things?

Servants. I realized.

One by one. These Servants (later I learned the word was Aseigan) picked away at the Arbitrators things. Leaving the room vacant. Bare.

To me it looked no different. When nothing belongs to you, you always see things empty.

When the last of the Servants left, the Arbitrator returned.

I saw him approach in his gold armor. He didn't bother to inspect the handiwork of his now empty room.

He walked briskly. When he came near me, all I was graced with was his mere glance.

The window was his aim.

I looked towards it. Downwards to the approaching world below me.

In this stripped room only I remained.

He came to collect me.

How nice of him.

The ship rumbled in the atmosphere of the Yautja World. It wasn't overly disturbing. But it did move me.

The Arbitrator stood firm. His arms crossed as he looked at his home.

Was he happy? Irritated?

I wondered if I was to ever decipher his aura.

Breaking through the clouds was like a dream.

For a moment I thought I was blessed. So wonderful was the sight.

Almost like Heaven.

But then, if the clouds where Heaven, I was falling from it. Was I not?

Religious allegories were complicated that way.

The Yautja Arbitrator turned sharply away from the window.

He began to exit his chamber at once.

For a moment I wondered what I was to do. But it was obvious.

I had to follow my Owner. There was no longer reason for me to be here.

The shadows of the Yautja ship were no different than when I first came aboard.

I had to walk quickly to keep up with the Arbitrator. Though I fell behind often, he did not slow down for me. I kept from running. I thought it would be frowned upon for me to appear jovial. Or eager.

I was not eager. The more we traversed through the ship, the more my lungs became tightened.

For a while I thought I was still sick. He had not cured me. I was sweating and my pulse soared. I was sure I would faint. This Yautja has lied to my Father and now he had to take me back to him so I could die in peace.

But no. This was not true.

As I clasped my shaking hands, I realized I was only…

"_M-di'h'dlak_."

My Owner growled.

I looked up and found him glaring at me past his shoulder.

"_M-di'h'dlak_."

He growled again.

I did not understand what he _said_, but I did understand what he _meant_.

_M-di'h'dlak_. No fear.

I learned that later.

I could not be afraid. I could not pretend I was still a child that had a right to be afraid.

I thought of Father and kept up faster.

The sun of the Yautja Home World was bright.

Unbearably bright.

My senses where knocked about at once when we exited the ship.

It was loud. And crowded. And smelled like earth and sweat.

The sun's glare hit my eyes with no mercy. I tried to cover my eyes with my hand but ended up using my whole arm.

I feared I would get lost in this sea of aliens.

I grabbed hold of my Owner's cape.

He didn't seem to mind. He continued to walk on.

It always felt like when he strode, nothing could stop him. He had this important place to be. He was an unstoppable force.

He did not pause.

At one point another Yautja walked up to my Owner.

He shook his shoulder and my Owner did the same to him. This other Yautja did not have armor on, but he was far from a Servant.

He seemed to respect my Owner. And my Owner cared enough to stop walking.

They exchanged brief words. Words I didn't understand.

For a moment I examined this other Yautja, with his darker brown scales and younger build.

He looked down at me.

A jolt went through me. My eyes fell to the floor.

I was an alien amongst aliens.

The other Yautja inquired about me. I heard him click

My Owner gave me a fleeting glance before he responded. Casually.

"_Mach'kota."_

A pet.

It appeared as if he didn't think I was a big deal.

"_Ell-osde e'che Ma'ch-paya._"

Clicked the other Yautja.

"_Sei." _my Owner answered him again.

"_Anto?"_

"_E'ye Leitjin-de Kan't'kwe, Ma'sao" _now he was growling,_ "E'ye e'che Ma'ch-paya."_

_Ma'ch-paya._

They kept saying it. I figured it was important.

I had no way of knowing of just how important it would be for me.

The other Yautja realized he had angered my Owner. He bowed his head.

My Owner resumed walking.

At one point we managed to get passed the crowd of Yautja around us.

But as we did so I felt the eyes of thousands.

Every time I lifted my eyes, a Yautja was glowering down at me.

I kept my head low.

There were no roads.

The sun's heat was beginning to thunder down upon me. I was helpless. My head began hurting.

For the first time, my skin was a color other than deathly pale.

I can offer no description of the buildings of the Yautja. As I kept my head down, I barely saw much of anything.

But they were made of stone. A sand colored stone. I was reminded of pyramids from the books I used to read. They were almost Aztec in nature. Mayan. Incan. All the cultures we humans had theorized that Yautja had been involved in, seemed to be true of what little I saw.

It was all I could gather before being glared at by a passerby.

Hours, it seemed. We walked until I was too exhausted to feel bothered.

The sun beat down at me. I was out of shape. I was never in shape.

I must have fallen asleep.

When I awoke, we were in front of a massive abode.

It seemed to spring right out of the ground.

A rectangular palace.

With a jungle right behind it.

We entered a long hallway adorned with pictures. Sculptures.

All the while I held on to my Owner's cape.

I was in such awe. I didn't notice we were reaching the end of the hall.

A large sitting room.

It's what it appeared to me.

Trophies and trinkets were in all corners. The roof was high set. A dome let the light in.

The floor. The walls. Bright hieroglyphs adorned them. The columns where laced with expensive cloth.

Everything was incredibly open.

I peered at other rooms. Only columns separated some. Others had hallways.

In the center of this room, there was nothing. An empty space.

There looked to be a small alter. It had little steps. Four. It went up to a wide, square, flat surface.

As if a centerpiece was meant to be there.

But the Arbitrator hadn't found one yet.

I realized the room was meant to be the first impression of anyone who entered His house.

He was a Yautja that had so many trophies. He could place them everywhere.

He could have all the expensive cloths he wanted.

His house was huge.

But he lacked a center.

I smirked at myself.

My first snide thought. I was growing up.

A small Yautja came up to us from the left. He was wearing nothing but a brown loincloth.

Still. He was taller than I was.

He came with his head bowed. Along with the rest of his body.

I immediately pitied him.

My Owner, however, did not.

He extended his arm towards Servant's direction. He glanced at him briefly. As if the mere sight of him was disgusting.

"_Aseigan."_

He said.

And that's how I learned the Yautja word for Servant.

Singular. And plural.

The Aseigan was to feed me.

I ate some fruit in the kitchen. The Aseigan never lifted his gaze. It looked like years of submission had kept him that way.

My Owner came to collect me.

I took some mental notes.

It seemed a worthy Yautja must never look upon a mere Aseigan.

My Owner always had his head held up high when an Aseigan was present.

It intimidated.

I was given a tour.

A garden, of sorts, was at the back. Wild trees and fruits could be picked from the branches whenever one desired.

A huge training room. To keep sharp. Weapons of all sorts where kept here.

He had a study.

A desk made of bones and bark stood firmly surrounded by shelves of scrolls.

I realized he also had transmitters. And Yautja computers at the touch of his hand.

There were rooms for guests.

My Owner had a large banquet hall.

And this, admittedly, was a favorite of mine.

Just passed the endless table.

If you could imagine a patio door…without the door. It was a huge opened entrance.

At either side of the entrance was a statue.

It a woman Yautja.

Anyway, pasted this large entrance was a lake.

It was a crystal clear pool of water. Strange plants floated on it.

Around it, wild trees grew. They canopied over it.

And just beyond that, was the jungle.

It felt like an invitation to the wild.

He let me stare at it for a while.

All this was like a maze to me. He led me to and fro. Back to front. All the way around.

I imagine it was late when we arrived to his sleeping quarters.

A true place for a king.

Long tapestries hung from the walls. Golden. Sapphire.

His most impressive trophies hung on the walls.

Others were posted up on stands.

The only ones I could recognize had strange names.

Xenomorphs? Were they? They weren't my Father's department. Regardless. These skulls were huge. I recalled something about them being from Queens.

His bed was covered in furs and skins.

In fact, there was much of that here.

Carpets. Hides. All thrown carelessly. All making the room majestic.

Jewelry hung from poles.

Ringlets. The kind Yautja put on their hair. And long necklaces with animal teeth. Some teeth were gold painted. Beads and stones.

It was here that my Owner finally looked at me.

He seemed bothered.

I was tired.

It seemed that it never occurred to him where I would sleep.

He continued to stare with a look of annoyance.

I remembered a story where the slaves slept in the kitchen.

But I wasn't a slave.

Then again. What was I really?

Something a Yautja owned. Nothing more.

What did I mean to him?

I was worth nothing more than my voice.

Fatigue loomed over me. I began to sway.

At this point my Owner made up his mind about me.

He took me firmly by my shoulder and led me to a far corner of his room.

I felt myself bruise.

The corner was not as cluttered.

Like before, I was thrown some cushions and furs. A rerun of before.

Shoved to an unimportant space once more. I knelt in my little nest.

Was I an animal? A pet?

I was a bird.

When I laid my head down on the embroidered pillow, I drifted.

The knitted symbols were like water.

Flowing and flowing.

Blue.

I never had my Mother sing me a Lullaby.

Father. Sometimes. Would hold me close as I fell asleep.

Safe and warm.

I Sang a little.

Still such a child. I pretended my Parents were here.

By the time I fell, I heard nothing but purring.

Anyway, that was only my first day.

A Yautja year is 2.25 human years.

There are 18 months a year. 5 weeks a month. 9 days a week.

36 hours a day. 90 minutes an hour. 90 seconds a minute.

Jet lag was horrible.

I awake. My Owner is gone.

I awake. He is asleep.

I'm tired. He's far from it.

My body struggled to adjust.

Bowls of fruit are near me when I awake. Always.

The Aseigan avoid me. I think. I also doubt they give me the bowls. My Owner didn't seem like one who let Aseigan in his room.

They make me uncomfortable. The Aseigan. I fear I am too much like them.

I, too, am here only to serve the Arbitrator.

Speaking of Him. He was in settling mode.

Like a true businessman. He came from a long trip and had to get back in a groove.

He was constantly on the move. It's here I realized how hard He worked. In fact, it appeared my Owner was a workaholic. If he wasn't out for hours on end, he was inside toiling away. Even when he trained, he seemed tense. The job of an Arbitrator was demanding, at best. It was only natural for him to seek some form of distraction. A way to relax himself.

And I, songbird as I am, was that outlet.

His stress subsided with my Songs.

I act as a pain reliever.

Anyway, it was one morning that it finally happened.

My Owner Arbitrator laid the usual bowl of fruit at my nest. With that little formality out of the way, He curtly began to walk out of His room.

Times like this troubled me. I wondered if I should follow Him.

Other than this room, I didn't feel like I _belonged_ anywhere. Should I wander His house? Explore? These thoughts where partly useless. If He wanted me to follow him, he would gesture me to do so. He did that whenever he wasn't going out.

But I felt as if I was still up in the air. He was hiding something from me. He himself didn't dare get too comfortable with me.

My stay in His care wasn't…official yet. So it seemed.

Sighing. I leaned back on the sandy wall with my fruit.

I Sang.

As I did I wondered briefly about what was missing.

My mind wandered with every note.

The final piece. What would make me belong here? To my Owner. I hated calling Him that. What else could I? I was an object. A thing. Yet. Something told me I was to be more. That I could be more.

I stopped my Singing. My Owner had not left.

I stared at his intimidating form.

For a moment I thought he was angry with me.

Then, suddenly, he nodded.

With a gruff, he walked away.

Puzzled with thoughts. I remained curious until my Owner came back.

He seemed different. I was sure something had changed.

I was still in his room when he returned. He stared at me for the longest of times. With that He made sure I knew that this change had to do with me.

It was exciting. And strange all at once.

Days passed. My Owner had the guise of a man who had accomplished something from his work-list, but that it wasn't entirely closed.

Whatever it was. It needed confirmation.

The day came where my Owner arrived with a gift of sorts.

He knelt to my level. I was quick at attention. I watched him as he bent to lift something that had been next to him.

A dress. White as snow.

In his room of colors and splendor, this mere dress stood out in a striking glow.

For a moment I looked down at my own dress.

The only thing I had from my past.

It was ragged. A hospital's garb. A sick person's robe. Pathetic. Really.

I looked backed at the garment before me. Simple. Elegant. Flower-like lace at the side. With short sleeves. Modest but classy.

I marveled at it. As if it where fit for royalty.

I reached out. But stopped myself.

The dress was pure and perfect. Compared to my muddy hand.

I felt like a ragamuffin.

My Owner surely sensed this.

He led me to the baths.

He gestured me to take a dip. Leaving politely.

I gladly did so.

I was dirty. Filthy.

I realized just how long I had been without a bath.

The water was green. Not exactly water. It certainly cleaned me better than the showers I had been in before. I knew how to bathe myself. I had been sick before, but Father had never allowed a stranger to help me wash.

My new dress was near me.

I dried myself well before daring to put it on.

My dress. Something that was mine. On this alien planet. Could it be possible?

I smiled.

I also brushed my hair.

I used my fingers. Most of the knots were easy. The water had loosened it.

Things began to piece together.

My Owner had booked a special day for me.

I was reminded of the dinner party held at the _Heavenfall_. All that time ago.

But I wasn't going to a party.

My Owner was waiting for me outside the baths.

He took me out.

The Yautja sun was still excruciating. My limbs hurt.

We trekked for hours. In a more remote path. The jungle foliage was better than glaring Yautja, however. We walked in a densely planted area. I kept close to my Owner.

He too was dressed in finery. Black armor. Like that of a raven. It shimmered in the light of the sun. I knew he had freshly polished it.

No cape this time. It seemed he wanted to be presentable but toned down.

The sky above me was a canopy of tall jungle trees.

I gazed at them in wonder. Very much the child in a fairytale wood.

I Sang some.

No birds sang in the Yautja planet.

In these wandering tunes I lost myself. The walk seemed to lessen.

In a middle of a melody I looked down and noticed.

A small Yautja gathering came to view.

I bowed my head.

I felt like an Aseigan.

A small clearing separated itself. Surrounded by jungle. This was not a permanent Yautja village. I knew.

There were no homes. This was merely a gathering place.

A gathering for what, I would know soon.

My Owner had not been deterred by this new audience. He walked on. Sure as ever.

As we advanced the Yautja were less sparse.

At either side of us. A long line of Yautja lined up. Watching as we moved on.

I was being led.

In an act of bravery. Foolishness. Audacity, if nothing else.

I looked up.

I saw an altar.

No.

A throne.

Hundreds of steps went up to a regal chair. Carpeted in red. Held up and made of bone and wood. A huge diamond was atop the back.

A queen sat on it.

My Owner knelt before the base of this godly throne.

I stared at him in wonder.

His eyes where to the ground. His head bowed.

He was submissive.

I went on my knees.

If my Owner. An honored Yautja. A respect-demanding Yautja. Bowed before this figure, surely, I was no one to think myself above doing the same.

"_Ah'tu'lamm,_ _Su'ete'aka."_

A voice sounded. Strong. Powerful. With authority. Aged.

My Owner responded.

"_Ah'tu'lamm, A'yate Ma'ch-paya._"

_Ma'ch-paya._ A Yautja Matriarch.

I read of them. Things became clear.

Yautja women are highly respected. Matriarchs sit at the head of all the clans and all the families. The wise mothers of all.

They keep things civil. They are the backbone of the world.

Without this Matriarch's blessing, I had no place in this world.

She would decide my fate.

"_Ell-osde Pyode Amedha_?"

"_Se-i, Ma'ch-paya._"

I heard a noise. Not unlike a laugh you keep in your throat. Coming from Her.

My Owner had told the Matriarch everything.

The deal that had been struck.

Father selling me. The Arbitrator curing me. Both parts of the deal kept.

It was up to Her to put the seal of approval.

If She didn't. I would be cast off.

A lovely thought. They would send me back to Father.

But no. Wishful thinking.

They would never send me back.

I knew this. I felt this.

She spoke again.

"_Pyode. Gkei'moun._"

Soft. Simple.

On the outside. That's all I was.

"_M-di'h'dlak_?"

The only word I knew at the time.

No fear.

I thought of Daddy.

I was not afraid.

Yautja can smell a person's musk. N'dui'se. As they call it. Much like a dog.

The Matriarch could smell my lack of fear.

A shrill hiss came from above us. It took seconds before I realized it was laughter.

She was laughing.

"_M-di'h'dlak. Sy'ua! Yeyinde Pyode Amedha_!"

She called me a brave human.

She laughed some more.

I felt Her gaze on me. My eyes were on the floor.

Her laughter subsided.

"_Yeyinde…Gkei'moun._"

Brave but simple.

What was I worth? What made me so special?

I showed Her how brave I was.

I Sang.

I was simple. Yes. Not beautiful like Mother.

Soft. All humans are. We're fragile things.

Weak.

I was told not to be afraid.

All I had to do was Sing.

That's what made me special.

It's all I had to convince her.

I stopped.

One song was all I would give.

Then I did the unthinkable.

I looked up at Her.

She was majestic.

"_Yeyinde Pyode Amedha._"

She was an old mother. Wrinkles sagged on her face. Each telling a story. Her long dreadlocks where grey. I could see white. Golden rings adorned each strand. By the dozens. So much that I could barely see her hair. She was a tanned beauty. I could tell she was once a goddess in her youth. Dark brown spots covered her skin. She wore a dark red dress of silk. Only one short sleeve covered her right shoulder. The red cloth hung long past her legs. Both her arms had bracelets made of beads, or bands of gold. They rested on the throne's arms. Her diamond rings on each of her boney fingers shone in the late sun. A crown of gold and jewels hung from her head.

She looked at me fiercely with her yellow eyes.

If I was going to die, at least I knew the face of my killer.

"_Su'ete'aka."_

She looked down at the Arbitrator.

He dared not look up at Her.

But He _had_ been looking at me.

Wondering. Perhaps. If I had a death wish.

If I do survive at least he'll be impressed.

"_Su'ete'aka…e'ye anvida ell-osde mach'kota…_" the Matriarch rumbled. She stroked her chin. For a moment I imagined her smiling. Yautja can't smile. "_Yeva pei…let e'ye ac'ure et ell-ode."_

I bowed my head again. Feeling stupid. I had no idea what she said.

But. For some reason. I could breathe again.

The Arbitrator nodded once.

He got up.

He was already on the move again. Leaving the shrine.

He gestured for me to get up.

I followed him quickly.

I wondered if any of the Yautja would reach out and grab me. Stop me from leaving. Imprison me. Worse.

They didn't.

We were half way out. Going back the way we came.

I understood now. Why it was easy to breathe.

_A'yate Ma'ch-paya._

Matriarch A'yate.

I liked her.

I smiled.

The day after. I was summoned by the Arbitrator.

He led me to the sitting room. The one after the long hallway. His first impression maker.

Well, today it made an impression on me.

On the small alter. Right in the center.

I gazed at it for a while.

The Arbitrator kept his distance behind me. Arms crossed.

I stepped closer to the alter. At the thing on top of it.

Tentatively. I reached out. But I thought. If I touched it now. I could wake up.

Instead I took very little steps up the alter.

Step. After step. After step.

Four.

I sat down on the mattress-like cushion below me.

I looked up. I could see the sun roof.

I immediately thought of a cage.

The bars were made of gold. They went so high. I doubted that I could reach the top standing up. Maybe when I was older.

It was a square cage. Not much a cage though. There where bars on all the corners. I could climb the steps and enter the cage easily. The cage was big enough to fill the alter.

If someone would enter from the long hallway, the first thing they would see is me.

The Arbitrator's room finally had a center.

I looked up at the sky some more.

The Yautja sun didn't burn on me that much.

I closed my eyes.

And Sang.

I was a bird.

This was a cage.

The bird finally got its cage.


	4. Siren Songstress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More than one person has read my slow chapter transfers to ao3 and went to binge the rest of this fic on ffnet so can i just say?? thank you?? And sorry for missing my Tuesday update day I was having...a Time. But I'm here now and that's all that matters.

Looking back, I'm surprised I wasn't terrified. My Father sold (saved) me. My Yautja Arbitrator Owner cured me. Matriarch A'yate accepted me. There was no one left. My survival was now entirely up to me.

I had no more freebies.

Let me clarify.

My dear Father raised me. He looked after me. He went so far as to sell me to make sure I lived. I know of fathers who barely give their children a second thought. I counted myself lucky to have a Father who loved me. And cared. And nurtured.

But I'm getting too personal.

Moving on, we have my Arbitrator. He cured me. No illness could hinder me anymore. He was even tasked to see to my wellbeing from then on.

Matriarch A'yate. She gave me my final blessing. I could now start my new life in this alien world.

See a pattern? All of them gave me a means to my survival. Elements. Tools I had to use.

I was accepted. Sure. Now I had to make sure I stayed that way.

In this short period of my life. This one instance of space and time. My life was finally in my own hands.

In short. I had to get the Arbitrator to like me.

At least. Like me enough to let me stick around. And not grow bored of me and possibly throw me away.

I had to plan this right.

So I observed him.

He lived a very rigid lifestyle.

He got up early. Slept late. He was prone to be out of the house a lot (imagine that, me calling an alien den a house). I had never seen him eat any meal yet. He fed me. Of course. Feeding himself was something I had no idea about.

I also noticed that he piled work onto himself. He always seemed to need to be someplace. Having to do something.

His only hobby was training. I noticed that one day.

He would go to his training room and kill imaginary foes with his sharp knives. But even that seemed like a chore to him. Another job he needed to do.

I'm sure it relaxed him. Long ago. But now it only irritated him.

He would tense and every swing. Growl at every lunge. I was sure there was some sort of pent-up anger in him. Something. With his heavy breathing. It always looked as if he was more agitated than when he started. He always seemed like he was about to slaughter someone.

He was very intense.

So what's a little girl to do?

I didn't like staying in the Arbitrator's room. It was claustrophobic.

Since Matriarch A'yate blessed me. The weight I felt had lifted. I didn't feel confined to that one place. Of course. I far from thought of the Arbitrator's den as my own. But I no longer considered myself a whole outsider.

I dared to wander the house. The Arbitrator was out again.

Often, he would leave as soon as he gave me my morning meal.

Now, I can't be expected to eat and Sing at the same time. He wasn't giving me much to work on.

But moving on.

His home was a maze. I would wander a bit. Wanting to see if I remembered my way around.

Sometimes. I made it to the kitchen without backtracking. I always thought the Arbitrator would return and not find me. I didn't want to be scolded.

But in a day or two. I wandered with little to no pressure.

I happened upon the Aseigan. Once. Way in the back of the house.

The slave part. I discovered.

I figured out what I felt about the Aseigan.

They were like the homeless on the street. The addicts. You pitied them. But you didn't want to look at them. Because you don't know how to help them.

For the life of me. I didn't want to _be_ them.

Out of everywhere in the Arbitrator's house. I had one favorite.

The banquet hall's opened doors. Where the pond was.

It's here I pondered on what I was to do.

I knew my mission was to win the Arbitrators favor. But he gave me no ready opportunity. He was constantly moving.

He stopped for no one.

In an active lifestyle. What was I to do? Me, who had always been too sick to move.

I went on my knees. Facing the pond. Seeing my reflection on its surface.

I Sang.

I had been told to Sing. Not to wait to be told to Sing. Not to find a reason to Sing. An opportunity to Sing.

Just…Sing.

So that’s what I did.

The Arbitrator was quick to notice this change.

At breakfast. I Sang before starting my meal. Taking the time to make my bed. Or nest. Or whatever. I hadn’t decided what to call it.

He actually seemed amused by this. He even stayed a while longer.

Imagine. He even sat on his bed. Watching.

Of course. The minute I started eating. He left immediately.

Usually. I wouldn't Sing at all if he wasn't around. But. I thought this made things lonely and silent.

I Sang to myself to past the time.

Just like I did back in _Heavenfall_.

His home was too big. Too silent.

It eased the emptiness.

Although the Arbitrator never gave me signs. Not a hint of hope. I continued to Sing.

I would Sing every time I was to eat. And he would stay. Watching me.

When I stopped. He left.

Simply. Callously.

Of course. The only reason he cared was my voice. I expected no applause.

But for him to wash his hands off me. Seemingly. Was not a promising sign either.

Yet. I pursued.

Often. When I Sang out of loneliness. I would turn and realize he had been listening. So I would start again with something new.

It was the only thing I had to hold on to. My Singing. It was the only thing that reassured me. Told me I wasn't a lost cause. Not yet.

One day I lounged in my little cage.

Looking up at the sky.

I decided there were three places that could be my own. My nest in the Arbitrator's room. The entrance overlooking the pond. And my cage.

I could wander the house. Sure. But it made me think of my life. How I could wander. Endlessly.

Metaphors creep up on you when you don't want them to.

I had taken a pillow from my nest. I clutched it now. It looked good. Here in my cage. It gave it a bit of life.

I'm not sure what I searched for in the sky above me. Perhaps an Angel. One to look after me in this alien planet. Surely God was not against it. God was supposed to be nice.

Anyway, I had just barely noticed the Arbitrator coming through the hallway.

He had been gone overnight.

I admit. I was a little hungry. No one had given me dinner.

It was things like this. It made me feel like I still wasn't safe here. Not entirely.

He seemed frustrated. Like he hadn't slept.

Without giving it much thought.

I Sang.

Not really for him. And perhaps just a bit for me.

I Sang of a Hero. Coming home. Always.

Perhaps it was someone else. Singing through me. Promising. Something.

Strange. And maybe a tad too religious. But it's what I felt.

When I stopped. He knelt before me.

He stared at me. And I him.

I clutched at my pillow.

He noticed.

"_Naxa."_

He held up the fruit he had always given me.

I'm sure it was his way of being sorry. For making me skip my meal.

In any case. He began teaching me Yautja.

It was a tactic. More or less. He couldn't have someone ignorant around him. That. And it would be easier for him to tell me when and how long he'll be gone.

He taught me to understand it.

I'm sure he didn't expect me to speak it. I didn't try to.

The Arbitrator still worked as hard as ever. On the side he would teach me words. Like homework.

"_Nok_."

He showed me a lengthily rod.

"_Nok_."

He repeated. Wanting to know if I understood.

I pointed at the rod.

Perhaps he thought I was being a smart-aleck. He huffed. And took the rod away.

"_Nok_."

I looked around. I found a small statuette on his desk. I pointed at it.

_Nok_. 13 inches. A Yautja unit of measure.

He huffed again. A more positive huff.

I wished he would stop patronizing me. Last time he taught me the word _Tjau'ke_. He handed me a rock. I had to give him another rock. Twice. In order to tell him that. Yes. I now knew _Tjau'ke_ means _rock_.

I can take the hard stuff.

But he simply leaned back on his chair. Got back to work.

He would often take me to his study. Where he would use his Yautja technology. His desk would project a red monitor. And he would move his claws about it.

Sometimes it looked as if he was reading a list. Other times he would be reading profiles of some sort.

He would growl. Often.

I could see his fist shake. Lightly. A crushed note. In his clenched hand. The tension of his claws was unmistakable. With the same pent-up anger I had been noticing for a while now.

I Sang him a tune.

He was still frustrated. He was always frustrated.

But his shoulders became less rigid. He brushed off the note. And his anger.

He continued working. He could bare it. Apparently.

As long as I Sang.

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The day came. When the Arbitrator took me to his training room. _Kerhite_. As I was told. Repeatedly.

The walls were filled with knives and blades. They hang high and ended low. Waiting to be used. Stands and stalls had similar tools. A huge clearing was in the middle. Circular. Better for training.

Today's murder weapon. _Ki'its-pa_. Hunting spear.

A huge alien rod. A killer's tip.

The Arbitrator stepped into the center of the clearing. He twirled his weapon. He breathed harshly.

"_Kv'var_."

He said.

Exercise. This was nothing more than exercise for him.

He lifted the spear up. Parted his legs.

"_Hiju_."

Combat stance. Fighting position. Whatever sounds better.

He was angry.

I saw it in his eyes. When he came back. He had ripped away the curtain that acted like a door to the hallway. He would've done much worse. I'm sure.

He saw me. In my cage. And beckoned me to follow him.

I knelt. Watching.

"_Je'ha_."

One.

He cut the wind. It cried.

"_Je'hu_."

Two.

His arms moved. Graceful. Stressed. His form was perfect. Yet. He was strained.

"_Ke'hu_."

Three.

He knew he was strained.

He swung his weapon up. Slashed an enemy from behind him. His dreadlocks danced in the air. Slapping it in the face.

But it wasn't good enough.

He growled. Lunging at an attacker. Someone who wasn't there. Only he was there.

And me. But that's not the point.

He fought this enemy. Growling. Hissing.

Breaking.

With a mighty shove. He knocked over a stand. I saw the glimmers given off by the fallen blades.

He roared.

He arched himself backwards. Mandibles flaring.

He forgot about teaching me. Forgot imperfection. He merely attacked. Erratic. But masterful.

He was a wild animal. And in that there was control. He willed for someone to attack. He knew no one would. No one could challenge him. So he destroyed his _Kerhite_. Took the blades and cut the wind.

Do you wonder if I was scared?

Wonder if I feared. Prayed for myself. I was told once to only pray for things that truly mattered. As for fear. I wasn’t afraid. I knew this was coming. I planned for this to come.

I needed him like this. I needed him out of _his_ cage.

He swung his blade.

I Sang.

There can only be one Caged Bird.

For a moment. He paused. A moment no one else could have seen.

In that moment. I saw my face in the shining silver. I saw his eyes.

He struck again.

_Je'ha_.

Once more.

_Je'hu_.

Another.

_Ke'hu_.

As I Sang in my melodies. He struck with his blade. As my hands shook with each strain of my voice. His shoulders calmed with every movement.

He was the master of his body.

He was a killer.

I saw it now.

Before. He was tense. Distracted.

Now. I saw his form as what it should have been always. A deadly beauty.

I Sang louder.

With every stretch of his muscles. Calm. Controlled. Ready to release at any moment. Release the monster within. He had the power to end life. He used it when he wanted to.

He was the Alpha.

His blade sliced with the power of a king. No longer did his claw clench too tightly. Shook a fraction too much. He had it now.

He always had it. He merely forgot.

With every note I Sang. He followed with his arm. He followed with his body.

Was I leading? More of a measure. But I may be being modest here.

With every change in lyric. He changed his attack. With every up in tempo. He quickened his pace. Every slowed note. He halted. He breathed when I breathed. I stretched a word. He kept his form.

He was deadly. And like the blade in his hand. I was his new tool.

He turned. Ready. Capable. Powerful.

I stopped.

His blade froze just a fraction in front of my face.

It was a close call.

Before me. The Arbitrator breathed heavily. Though not harsh. Not like before. He stared down at me. I saw sweat on him.

I wondered if he even felt them.

The Arbitrator lowered his weapon.

He ruffled my hair. And past me by.

It was the first acknowledgement I'd been given.

Let me clarify what had happened.

I needed the Arbitrator to break.

I could have Sung while he trained from the beginning. But it would have done me no good.

I had Sung for him while he worked. It served as a numbing. Nothing more. He was distracted and irritated. Combined, it was the wall hindering me. I needed him to release that anger. Succumb to the rage.

Only then could I be of use.

When one has a headache. He lays himself down. The Arbitrator moved too much to lay down.

Headaches can weaver with pills. The Arbitrator would take no pill.

You can move through the headache. Let it run its course. Continue on despite it. The Arbitrator attempted to do so. But he only added more troubles to his mind.

The final method. Detonate the headache. Snap. Then you're free.

The Arbitrator had more than a headache. But the method still stands.

I had refused to Sing until he was over the edge.

A gamble. But it worked.

I admit. I was partially relieved. A feeling altogether new to me.

All my life. I hadn't the chance to truly feel things. I had Father to reassure me. What he said was what I lived by. If from his mouth he said things were fine, so it was.

I'm not altogether sure that I was worried to begin with. But I do know that relief washed over me. It felt like tingles on my skin. And my stomach felt untwisted. I knew my plan had worked.

Feeling things was definitely worth the effort.

The day after. I was arranging my nest.

I figured that since the pillows that made up my nest were mine, I could use them however I liked.

The one I brought over the other day looked nice in my little cage. So I took two more. I had to economize, however. I had only so many pillows. The floor hurt. I needed them more in my nest. But it looked nice. My blue one. My red one. And my purple one. I was truly feathering my den.

Well. A small corner of it at least.

Anyway.

The Arbitrator arrived. He had a long cloth dangling from his clawed hand.

Child curiosity washed over me. I peered at it. Thinking. Maybe. That it was another dress. It was a lovely shade of maroon. I would've loved to have one.

But. Alas. It wasn't.

It was a curtain. A tapestry. With golden embroidery. And black swirling patterns.

He must have gotten it from the market place.

He had some trouble placing it though. A perfectionist. His whole den was filled with his trophies. Acting like decoration. And furniture. The curtains were additives. But he already had so many.

He caught me staring.

I looked down. Perhaps it was impolite to stare.

The Arbitrator clicked his mandibles. I peeked upwards. He was staring at my cushions. I thought he was angry at my audacity. After a second or two. He handed me the cloth.

Surprised. I quickly took it. Fingering the thread count. Like silk. But rougher. Stronger.

A lovely shade of maroon…

I looked up. Got up on my feet. It was an effort. I had to jump. But I managed to swing the cloth across every corner of the top of my cage. Like a canopy. It was long enough.

I sat and hugged my knees. Admiring my handiwork.

The Arbitrator was watching. Arms crossed. As always.

At least he thought I was innovative.

But this was short lived.

He received a message shortly after.

I'll tell you something right now. The Arbitrator wasn't fond of social gatherings.

In the Yautja world. There were ritual ceremonies. For just about everything. _Chivas_. Seasons. But if you've seen over a thousand. You've seen them all.

But he was an Arbitrator. A public figure. He made sure the Code was obeyed. And if it wasn't. He made said offender pay hell. He knew Elders. Ancients. And Matriarchs.

Ah, yes, Matriarchs.

To strengthen Clan relations. To get an update. If a Matriarch said that Elders, Arbitrators, and Ancients should gather just to see each other's faces. It was so. My Arbitrator loathed it. But he would smile and bare it anyway.

I said hello to politics again.

There was a small problem though.

Two days later. In the banquet hall. I was looking over the lake again.

The Arbitrator was listening to a recording. An array of clicks. Series of them I yet to understand fully. A red monitor next to his face. He had a few jewels in his hand. Rings maybe. And was throwing it casually up in the air. Whatever the recording told him. It had his utmost attention.

Going to the gathering was simple enough. The issue was whether he would take me.

Apparently. He had been given an off-handed request to show me off to the rest of the class. I had no idea of this. I figured it out after. So oblivious, I paid only partial attention to his peculiarities.

I suppose he was justified in his hesitation. I was his private property. Did he really want to flaunt me? It wasn't as if I had really proven my worth to him yet.

I looked at the lake. Perhaps it was nature intervening. Divine guidance.

I think it was because the water was so beautiful. Like crystal. I felt like I wanted to thank it.

So I Sang.

Singing to water is rather silly. I didn't think much of it at the time.

Rather. I drowned in my tune.

It was happier than the ones I had Sung. Recently.

When I stopped. The Arbitrator stopped playing with his trinkets.

He began to leave the room. But not before throwing the jewels at me to catch.

They were lovely. By the way.

He made a decision.

Arbitrators are constantly on the move. Tracking. Judging. Executing. To them, invitations were open as per their schedule allowed. If they couldn't make it, they were forgiven. If on the job.

But my Arbitrator planned to make sure no such thing happened. Better to introduce me now and get it over with. Sedate the curiosity of his peers. Unless an Arbitrator with his set of talents was needed specifically. He was busy for the evening.

Incidentally. It takes a Yautja quite a while to get ready. More so than a human.

Things must be done days in advance.

The Arbitrator had a lot of armor.

His usual uniform. A deep raven black. So black that I felt if I reached out to touch it. I would be reaching into an endless black hole. It had marks and chips. Proof of his conquests. Every killed Bad Blood. Meticulously crafted to be flexible. Resilient. He only fixed it if it needed fixing. He liked to keep the dirt on it. Only cleaning if he wasn't busy. Or if filthy with blood.

He has a soft spot for his old armor. From before his Arbitrator days. His Clan Leader armor of a silver tone. Farther still. His old armor from his Blooded days. Tortured with scars and scratches. I doubted it even fit him now. Not that he was ever _skinny_. The fact that he had added even more muscle to his body since then was incredible though.

His ceremonial armor. A true work of art. A polished. Liquid black. Shining with death. Patterns carved into his plating. Only visible when light touched it at a certain angle. Etched with gold Yautja words on his wrist cuffs. Verses. Perhaps. It seemed like something he would have. A long cape the color of night. Long. Flowing. It was impressive. To say the least.

"_Awu'asa_."

He clicked at me. Showing his collection.

Right. Can't forget my vocabulary lessons.

The Arbitrator watched me closely. By now I could easily tell that he had something on his mind. Though it didn't seem to urgent.

He turned back to his _Awu'asa_. Perhaps imagining what else he could add to his garments.

I found it funny. Hiding my smile.

Yautja can be such Divas.

Arrangements for myself were to be made shortly.

I hadn't much thought for my appearance in any way. Things like that don't concern a Dying person. And even now I didn't feel a self-consciousness about it. I had no one to impress. Nor would I ever.

My white dress. The one I had since my audience with the Matriarch. I admit that I cherished it some. I had nothing else and it was beautiful. More than I could ask for. Given circumstance. I tried my best to keep it the soft snow glow it came to me in. But. Alas. My efforts were solely in vain.

As I laid in my cage. I notice how faded it looked. I had tried with all my might to keep away from dirt. Carefully made sure nothing spilled when I ate. But all whites fade regardless. It saddened me some. My little dress. Still pretty. No longer young.

Yautja don't share the same sentiments.

My Arbitrator came from the hallway. Taking strong steps. With purpose.

He nodded at my direction. Stepping aside from my cage. He crossed his big and powerful arms and waited.

Imagine my surprise. When I saw what was coming through the hallway.

They were the smallest Yautja I had ever seen. Female. At that.

I thought of Matriarch A'yate. They would never live up to her. To even dream it would be treason. At this point. I realized. How their heads where bowed. Their hands clasped tightly.

Female Aseigan.

I nearly marveled. Nothing like the regal presence that was Matriarch A'yate. They were small. Most likely weak. Not fit to be a respectable Yautja.

The Arbitrator growled. Possibly scolding me about gawking at mere Aseigan. It wasn't dignified.

Though I noticed how he made a great effort to avoid all contact from them. Turning his head away. And standing far. Female Aseigan are opt to make Males extremely uncomfortable. They're used to their powerful breed of women.

Anyway. These Aseigan approached me. Bowing. They were three. Lithe and small. Though still taller than I was. I saw that two of them were carrying a chest.

My Arbitrator extended his arm. Horizontally. A command I have come to know.

I etched farther to the corner of my cage.

Aseigan or not. I didn't know them. They made me nervous. All Aseigan did.

I stared at him. Hugging my knees.

He returned my gaze. Nodded.

The command was absolute.

No room for argument. He left. Likely to look after his own affairs.

I wanted to glare at him. I didn't. But I thought about it very hard.

Clear signs of improvement. This emotion thing.

Moving on.

The Aseigan were here for one purpose.

Currently. In the baths. They acted upon said purpose.

They dipped my head. In the pool.

My white dress. Neatly folded aside. Was stripped from me sure enough. It was an uncomfortable feeling. Being naked in front of them. But it had to be done.

They went to work quickly. I was in the water. One of them continually poured the liquid on my arms. With her hand.

My head was dipped again.

Another ran her claws through my hair. Now wet and manageable.

Yautja hair is like rubber. Thick. A braiding ritual has to be done in order to get it the way it is. Human hair is another thing altogether. I'm sure it was strange to them. But such thoughts weren't brought to question.

Instead. She added a few braids.

The third Aseigan. She held onto me. Keeping me from drowning.

Once that was done. I was brought out.

From their chest. Pure black and engraved. They pulled out a cloth.

Sensible. Brown. Long.

They wrapped it around me. Feeling it. I noticed. It was made of the same material as the Arbitrator's house clothes.

I admit. They are excellent tailors.

With a knife. They cut the excess. Swiftly. And from their magic box. They pulled out thread. Black in color. And needle. The Aseigan moved quickly.

The thread pierced through the cloth. At my side. I felt her skilled claws move down. And down. And down. The needle barely grazed my skin.

Thus. My new dress was formed.

It covered my chest. Down to my ankles. A simple thing.

More from their chest. Leather. One of the Aseigan lifted my foot. They made quick sandals for me.

As far as jewelry goes. A simple. Black. Iron bended arm bracelet. It twisted into a symbol. One I had seen on the Arbitrator's armor. His mark. I suppose.

My left arm had the grace of this decoration. The Aseigan. Kneeling before me. Gently pushed it up my skin.

I had noticed. In detail. How they treated me. They dared not touch me roughly. Every action they did was gentle. No. Careful. They kept me at arms length. Out of the way. Never _looked_ at me.

They're heads bowed. Eye contact was out of the question. I had been watching them. They went about their work. Never dreaming of looking up. They did not chat. Silent.

At one time. I thought that me and the Aseigan the same. Now. I realized. It was not the case.

They were slaves. I was…

I had no idea. But I was something else.

The Aseigan stepped back. Clasping their hands. Just the same as I had first seen them.

I took the notion that they were done.

Their work complete. They retreated out of the baths. Taking their magic box with them.

Left alone. I stood. For a moment. I searched briefly for my little white dress. I found it. Close to where I had been bathing. As I walked to it. The beat of my new sandals echoed. Through the walls.

I tucked my little dress away. I would come back to get it.

The Arbitrator had ripped my lab gown to shreds. I did not want the same to happen to it.

Safely placed. I exited the baths.

When I came to my cage. He was already waiting.

Dressed in his death armor. Necklaces made of bones and skulls. Hung round his neck. A spiked collar. When I stepped closer to him. I noticed. Small skulls clipped in his locks.

He turned out rather nicely.

He did a once over. Glance at me. Head to toe.

Under his scrutinizing gaze. I bowed my head.

Though. Curious as I am. I peered upwards.

His head was crooked to one side. I watched him finger one of his boned necklaces. He placed it over my head. Around my neck.

I reach for it. A simple thing. A star like shape. Perhaps a bone not found in the human body. It hung from a simple black string. Strong. Durable.

I looked up at him.

Satisfied with my appearance. He swung himself about. His cape whooshing. Leaving the room.

I had to follow him.

A long series of walking ensued.

At this point in my life. I realized. Walking long distances was not something I enjoyed.

Ah, well. More on that later.

The trip. Agonizing on my part. But not altogether awful like the last few times. Was uneventful.

The real action started inside the party.

I knew it wasn't Matriarch A’yate's palace. Just someone supposedly close to her.

My senses were brutally attacked. For the second time in my stay in this alien planet.

So much was the sudden overwhelming light and sound. My Arbitrator had to steady me.

He placed his clawed hand at my shoulder. Hiding the fact that I nearly fell over. Expertly.

I was thankful.

Also.

I was in a palace full of Yautja.

Overwhelmed was an understatement.

I felt their eyes upon me. As I and my Arbitrator walked further into the sea of bloodthirsty creatures.

I kept my eyes to the ground. But I knew. With the unwavering pace of my Arbitrator's gait. That he was unperturbed by the stares. He was neither nervous. Nor anxious.

It was comforting. Just a little.

I reached out to his flowing cape. Only slightly. To avoid the notice of the onlookers. I caught a slither of the cloth.

I did so. Half to not fall behind. Half to feel as if no other Yautja could snatch me away.

To feel like I had a Protector. If I was to call him that. And that he would not let me be prey to those around us.

I could breathe a little bit easier.

It's tradition. And good manners. To greet the hostess of the gathering.

It's what we were doing.

My Arbitrator knelt before the throne of the house's Matriarch.

I followed suit. Getting on both knees.

My Arbitrator clicked his greetings.

I call him My Arbitrator. Now. To distinguish him from all the others.

We were surrounded.

Arbitrators in black. Never as imposing as my own. Watching me like a detestable Bad Blood.

Elders in gold. Offended by the impropriety of me being in the room. Against all doctrines of the Code.

Clan Leaders in their silver. Shocked that my Arbitrator actually went through with bringing me. The audacity.

The Matriarchs. Scrutinizing and unimpressed by my simple-ness, my frailty, my humanity and the overall fact that I was a simple little girl.

Curious. The lot of them.

Politics is such a childish thing.

The House Matriarch's throne. An elegant chair of black and gold. Stood on no tower placed. But firmly on the ground.

She spoke to my Arbitrator then.

In my lessons on Yautja language. There were objects and people. And on occasion. Actions.

I cursed that He had not taught me conversational words.

I knew she spoke of me. Enticing him to show my worth. Matriarchs had the luxury of getting right to the point. No one questioned what they wanted.

My Arbitrator was no exception.

He nodded to her. Once.

He stood. In all his dark glory. And bid me to do the same.

Surrounded by spectators. I thought. In an act of free will. To quench their thirst upfront.

I Sang.

Perhaps I was bold. Perhaps I would never be one for politics.

In any case. Every note. Chord. Octave. Came from my throat.

I lost myself. Briefly.

And for a moment. The room full of monsters disappeared.

Briefly. I felt a twinge of control.

The rewards for my efforts were reaped accordingly.

I had stopped my Singing. Opened my eyes.

I knew. Beyond doubt. That they looked in awe.

It's a splendid thing. To surpass expectations.

My Arbitrator certainly enjoyed it.

The Matriarch of the House called for the _Cn'tlip_. And. Truth be told. The room became more pleasant.

Alcohol was a universal indulgence. Clearly.

Yautja surrounded my Arbitrator.

He was the flavor of the night.

They clicked at him. Their topic of choice. Where he had managed to find a little Songbird such as me.

The House brought ale. He. Had brought the entertainment.

They fawned over him. Imagine. Grown killers fawning. But it was unmistakable.

Matriarchs. Daughters or nieces of Matriarchs. Brushed past him. Coyly. More enticed women ran their claws on top of his shoulders.

His little pet was a smash.

They talked not to me directly. Such a thing was absurd. But they did glance at me. Increasingly.

With their attention drawn to Him. I was able to see the beauty of the palace walls.

It was grander than my Arbitrators. With the obvious woman's touch. Trophies did not adorn. Statues. However. Were abundant. Torches lit with blazing fire. Crafted like works of art. The powerful image of a female Yautja standing tall above the rest.

"_Paya_."

My Arbitrator clicked at me.

I remembered the name. She seemed important.

As the night drew on. The crowd of guest became more relaxed.

I noticed. That my Arbitrator became more jovial. With each drink of his _Cn'tlip._

His chest puffed. Prideful. As they gathered in hoards to talk to him.

He often gestured towards me. Entertaining his onlookers with information. Trilling. Occasionally. His mandibles upward to what I guessed to be a smirk of some sort. As he talked to them.

Probably. Telling them about how well I can keep a tune.

I was called to Sing more.

He placed his claws a top my head. Signaling his request.

I saw. How his chest filled more. His eyes satisfied. With how awestruck his peers became.

I Sang an upbeat tune.

We circulated.

Moving about the large room.

He would make me humor the new faces. I obeyed.

Though he teased them. Staying only for a Song. Moving quickly somewhere else. Having his chalice. Crystal. Filled with the wine of the House.

I realized. Quite surprised. That he was showing me off.

I Sang louder. Better.

I didn't want to disappoint.

The hours passed. I listened to the Yautja. Imagining. That they spoke tales of my Arbitrator

For in their world. One does not brag of what he's done. Only keep silent. As others tell fantastical tales of their deeds. Regardless of extraordinary altercations. That can. Or cannot. Be true.

I did hear His voice. Rather endlessly. My Arbitrator's. To clarify.

He rumbled. Talking politics.

This was. Of course. The reason for the gathering in the first place.

Business is always before pleasure.

Between hauling me around. He was almost a mediator. As Clan Leaders bickered about this and that.

If borders were truly crossed. My Arbitrator raised his hand. Told so-and-so to retract. And the issue was solved then and there.

An Arbitrator's judgment was absolute.

Unless. Of course. A Matriarch got into it. She could overrule whatever she wanted.

Matriarch A'yate was there. She saw me through the crowd.

She nodded at me.

I beamed.

In an act of mercy. Perhaps on seeing how tired I was. I was allowed to sit.

I was currently laying on a square bed. Bright red.

The cushion was fine. And soft. Velveteen. I thought. But doubted.

It seemed a flimsy fabric. Not one Yaujta would use.

I laid myself on it. Half-sitting. The bed was tall. So my legs dangled if I did not.

Above me. Crystalline shards hung. A chandelier. Glittering.

Similar beds existed. Here and there. Some were smaller. Others had sheer curtains.

Like a club with booths.

Though I was tired. I still wanted to see it all.

By now. Most of the Yautja were satiated. Lounging. Murmuring. I was free to look.

The red carpet. A deep blood. Worn from the hosting of gatherings just like this. For years. And years. And years.

Glass. And crystal. Hanging. Intricately. From the high ceilings. There was one such beauty. Near me. It hung like a curtain. Shaped like a pyramid. Only two _noks_ above the floor.

Fire made them glow. Torches. Also little fire pits. Some on top of tables.

One was near me. I watched the flames.

Like dancers.

I was shaken. From my dreams.

My Arbitrator sat next to me.

Maybe he was tired. Maybe it was the drunken daze in his eyes.

I suppressed a smile.

For a while. I continued to look at the flames. Sleep trying to lull me away.

I heard him trill.

At once. I felt his hand upon my head.

I froze slightly. Surprised.

He pet me. Small strokes at the top of my skull.

Purring.

A soft rumble. Emitting from him. Onto me.

I felt like I lost something.

But gained something grand.

Though I didn't know the meaning of it.

Not yet.

When I awoke the next morning. I was in my nest.

He had added one or two things.

More pillows from his bed. Skins too.

I didn't mind the extra comfort.

Generous. In fact.

I sat up. Staring around my little nook. Noticing. That though his bed was far from bare. He had indeed. Given me some of his own luxury.

There was no bowl of fruit.

My Arbitrator was also absent.

I figured. I would have to go to the banquet hall.

I did so. And found Him waiting for me.

His splendor of last night was forgotten. His usual attire donned.

He watched me enter the room. He was standing. Near a chair. I walked closer.

Once close enough. He handed me a plate.

Fruit. It had. Yes. But also meat.

Absently. I marveled at the offering.

I did not look up upon him. I merely took my plate.

I sat in my little spot. Near the water.

My throat was sore. Just a little. From all my Singing last night.

But I hummed a small tune.

Some days past.

Since I had so much in my bed now. I picked up a habit. Of taking something from there. And putting it in my cage. One. By one.

Maybe. That way. I thought He wouldn't notice.

I had just brought in another pillow. Gold this time.

I was admiring the sight.

I heard clicking. My Arbitrator was home.

I turned to see him.

Him. And to my surprise. A few others.

Aseigan.

With them. They carried. Small loads. Bundles. From what I could tell. Of cloth.

Curious though I was. I didn’t dare move from my cage.

My Arbitrator glanced at me. Leading the fray.

Of course. He did not stop. Ever forward to his task.

They headed for the banquet hall. Aseigans bowing their heads. Passing me by. I watched them go.

I hugged my knees.

Time passed.

Shortly. The Aseigan returned.

From the hall. Ever submissive. More so. If believably possible.

They went towards the exit. Leaving.

I wondered why they came.

I didn't wonder long. My Arbitrator appeared. After they left.

I watched him.

He beckoned me. With his talons. To follow.

I did.

We walked to the banquet hall.

I didn't know what to expect.

As we continued on. I felt my heart. Thumping.

We did not stop at the table. He gave no signs. And his huge frame. Kept me from seeing whatever he wished to show me.

He stopped. Suddenly.

I halted.

For a moment. He paused.

Then. His cape cutting the wind. He turned. Showing me.

A little nest on my favorite sitting spot.

Near the water.

In the height of bad manners. I did the unthinkable.

I stared at it.

This continued reaction. To everything He did. Was beginning to make me feel utterly stupid.

Yet. You mustn't blame me. Not really.

I wasn't used to his surprises.

He had been doing a lot. Lately.

It shocked me. To a minor degree.

I realized. That I thought. That everything he gave me was a gift. A graceful charity. But as I thought about it. He was supposed to take care of me. This was natural. Was it not?

Well. Yes and no.

I went towards it. Knelling slightly. Then completely.

The fabrics. Just like the ones from my nest. And my cage.

Soft. Expensive. But different.

Embroidered with words and pictures of stories. I traced the thread count. Images of Hunters. Fighting. Conquering.

Yautjan words. Telling tales. Verses.

Furs of monsters I'll never know.

I pieced things together.

As I looked towards the water.

My Arbitrator behind me.

As my Protector. Of sorts. He made sure I was taken care of. This meant feeding me. Clothing me. Nothing else required. I imagine he could very well get away with the bare minimum and not feel the least bit sorry.

But he had been giving me these small prizes. Bit by bit.

I had enchanted him.

Like a true Siren Songstress. I wrapped him in my Songs. And in my own naïve way. I hadn't even noticed myself.

Perhaps I'm thinking to highly of myself. Is what I thought. What I felt.

But I lost my freedom. In a fractured way.

I had been in limbo. Master of my fate.

My choices. Would have had me killed. Or delivered.

They were My choices. Though. I ruled them. I picked them.

But now. I felt. Like I didn't have to fight anymore.

I was finally safe.

So safe. That I relaxed. In my sea of furs.

He would not cast me off. The Arbitrator. My Arbitrator.

Su'ete'cha'aka.

I suddenly remembered his name.

I never forgot it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next week is the last chapter of the OG story before you all can expect the second phase which i posted in ffnet barely a month ago after a *checks notes* five year hiatus that i took. Look forward to it!


	5. Glorified Pet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in the end game people. This was the chapter I left off in before vanishing for five years.

Time passed for me then. Both quickly. And slowly. Like a dream. Let me tell you about when I woke up.

Before I knew it. I was in a place more foreign than last.

And in innocence. I didn't even notice.

I would have been awestruck. Shocked.

But I was so involved in the thread of fate. Nothing was wrong. Or. In this case. Right.

Extremely so.

He didn't notice either. My dear Sue.

But let's start things off in order. Shall we?

Arbitrator Su'ete. Had more money than he could possibly know what to do with. Money. Or whatever passes for Yautja currency in this strange world.

They had a means to buy. Markets filled with carpets and jewels and fruit. Low ranking vendors. Of course. Anyone who chose not to be a Hunter is low ranking. It's not their fault. Manual workers were Aseigan. Funny. How the low-ranking ones hold up everyone else. It's like that everywhere, it seems. I don’t think it’s fair.

Lessons in Yautja aside. Arbitrator Su'ete had money in his pocket.

He lived in luxury. No one was blind to it. And his wealth showed in every hanging garment and jewel. It proved he spent a great deal. But that he had such a great deal more.

I imagine. That he had done such a good job tailoring his palace to the precise detail of grandeur. That he couldn't possibly buy more. Couldn't possibly _do_ more. He was stumped. Richer with every kill.

And by now I knew he killed mountains of people. Workaholic that he is. And mountains more just to pass the time.

So, he let his money be. Piling many times over. Useless.

That is. Until I came along.

I wear nothing but gold.

Piles of gold adorn my body. Head to toe. Adding weight to me.

At first it was hard to walk. Being as heavy as it was. But by now I've managed to adjust.

The jewels I wear. Can be emerald. Ruby. Sapphire. But they are always fastened with gold.

Always gold.

Once. He bought me silver. A necklace of a single pinkish stone hanging from it. The minute he saw it round my neck he threw it away. Rather roughly. In fact. He was cross that entire day.

Gold seems to be the standard he's set.

Even now as I lounged in my cage. Gold covered every part of my skin.

I wear a gold crown on my head. Brown tear drop Jewels hanging in a circlet across my forehead.

My neck is strangled with jewelry. First, I wear a choker, gold with embroidery, brown jewels hanging from the bottom rim. Then, a long chain necklace draped four times around my neck. It was thin and light, and each chain was shaped like a flower petal. Each time it was wrapped around me, it was left to hang in varying lengths. One was closer to my neck. The other far below my chest.

Another necklace as long as this was put on me. Not a chain. But gold fastened to look like long beads. It was draped twice. The length was varied to whatever the other chain had not done. This one was heavier. Then. Two long necklaces. Coins hung from small golden chains. They bounced with every step I took. Making light music.

On each of my arms I wore thick golden bands. Far up on my arms. On my right I had one large one. On my left two slimmer ones. Thin bracelets of yellow gold. One was long and tight around my skin. Like a clasp. Intricately designed like waves in the form of diamond shapes. On either. Thin circular bracelets that bounced and moved if I did so much as move. Music makers like my coin necklace. By the dozens they were on me.

On my right wrist. There was one more. A charm bracelet made of gold and brown stone. It had a stray jewel-chain that trailed along my hand and ended as a ring for my middle finger.

It was one of my favorites.

Briefly. As I looked down at it. I had a notion that there was once a time I didn't have a favorite.

As for my dress. I wore a rich brown cloth around my chest. Not the same I had worn before. This one shined. Like silk but ever so much stronger. A style common to any female Yautja. My stomach exposed past my crop topped band.

My lower dress consisted of what you may perceive as a loincloth. But it was long like a dress. The fabric was of the same silk I wore above.

My mostly exposed legs. Due to the slights cut into my dress. Was given bracelets as well. The same thin. Bouncing kind. One different was my right leg again. It had a long band. Cut into swirls. Like embroidery. From just below my knee to my ankle.

My sandals. The only thing out of the ordinary. Were the strands sewn with shiny beads.

Thus I dressed. Normally. With altercations of course. But the overall concept of gold and jewels kept.

Even now as my Aseigan attend me. As they braided threads of – need I say it? – gold into my hair.

My hair is always in braids now. Not thick braids as the Yautja. But hundreds of slim braids. My Aseigan ran their claws expertly along my knots. Separating and mending. With my hair they laced golden strings in select places. Making my hair glow.

My female Aseigan.

Male Aseigan were kept as far away from me as remotely possible. The very thought of male Aseigan being around me was absurd in Yautja culture. Arbitrator Su'ete had to enlist these special Females for me alone to use.

The three that had been with me since the gathering.

It seemed such a long time ago. Perhaps it was. I can no longer tell.

They braided me. Oiled me. Drenched me in perfume. Fastened the cloths I would wear for the day around me. Their only task was to make me presentable.

I thought of naming them. Once. But I found I could not name those who worked solely for their task and never looked up.

As they finished with my hair. I reclined in my bed of pillows and furs.

Over time. My cage had become engulfed in things.

Sheer curtains with lightly plated embroidery surrounded all four corners. I could hide myself if I wanted to. Gems hung from the poles above me. Like little raindrops. Cloths of red wrapped around the vertical poles.

I had received more pillows and skins as well. Of varying fabrics and styles. Some had stories. Other were merely expensive to the eyes. My cage had become more like my second nest.

In my little cage. I often rested and thought.

Even while they worked around me. I had grown so used to them that I no longer minded. They did not stay for long anyway. Once they finished. They always went without a word.

As my Aseigan finished the last of my braids they retracted their hands from me. In unison. Placing their clasped hands on their laps. They had been resting on their knees while they worked on me.

They bowed their heads. And since they made no immediate movement, I peered at them curiously before looking into the hallway.

From the distance I could see the outline of a shadowed figure.

Arbitrator Su'ete had returned.

With his black uniform and strong pace. He rarely ever returned tired anymore.

The Aseigan stood. Bowing to him. Opting to leave quickly after.

They always paused long enough to show respect to the House's owner when He was in the room.

He spared no glance at them as they left. He never did.

Instead. He walked towards me a few steps more.

I noticed he carried something in his hand. Always the curious girl that I was.

Humored. He showed me a new necklace. This time it was adorned with brownish crystals. At the center hung a pendant in a rough shape. Though it glowed beautifully.

Ah. Of course. I was wearing to much gold and not enough gems. Just the other day it had been the other way around.

I gave him a tired look.

Not that he cared about my facial expressions.

Huffing at the thought of me having opinions. He placed the jewelry around my neck.

When I lifted my head. He examined me. The way I had become oh-so-used-to. With his head crooked to one side and a scrutinizing gaze.

He approved of the added weight.

I promised, not aloud, that if I tipped over, I would glare at him.

His shrill laughter was sort but amused.

There was reason for this glamour. Mainly because he felt like it.

But we would also be going out today.

The shut-in that had been my Arbitrator. He had picked up the habit of being invited to places and vigorously agreeing to go in order to shove me in the faces of his peers.

Typical behavior that no longer shocked me.

As we wouldn't be going for a while, he sat down beside me. He spread out his arms and reclined on my furs. His massive form gave off such a strong aura in my little cage I was sure no other Yautja had the same power as he.

My Arbitrator leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He wanted to relax.

I suppose he has a right to.

I Sang.

One Song would do. He didn't want me to strain myself. I was to perform after all.

He often came and sat next to me. Just so I could Sing to him.

I fancy that he wants a front row seat. Even if it is just us.

Or perhaps Yautja give no notion of personal space. Either or.

He would always drift into the world I sent him too.

Sometimes. I fancy he even lets his guard down. Only sometimes.

Part of me found it strange. That he could get so comfortable with something he owned. But then, that's a silly thought. If he owns me, what has he to fear?

Nothing. That part of me got so quiet I hardly noticed at all. Hardly minded at all.

As I Sang I stared at the gauntlet around his wrist. Drifting into my Song.

I knew the blades that came from it. Sharp and murderous. Powerful.

They were pens to him. Something to do his job.

I gently ran my fingers over it. Away from the blades. As if I, too, were relaxed.

But not too much. Never.

At least not then…

As an afterthought. I was careful not to touch his scales. It seemed presumptuous.

I don't think he noticed.

As I finished my Song, I heard footsteps.

He did as well. Opening his eyes and staring unimpressed towards the hallway as I continued my tune.

He didn't tell me to stop. He never did.

So I let my melody run its course. Staring, too, at what came to us.

Crippled Yautja came to view. I was as unsurprised as he was.

Arbitrator Su'ete is nothing if not a Yautja of style.

The Slaves come. The Aseigan. Through the hallway with their bowed heads. Males this time. Not my Females.

He intends for them to carry me.

A short while after, my Arbitrator is standing next to my cage. His armor newly polished and his person groomed.

The Aseigan Males have been standing farthest away from me in the other side of the room. As if I were a plague.

They do so not to be rude. My Arbitrator has ordered them to.

They dare not touch his centerpiece.

With one gruff from him, they move from there statuesque form. Four go to respective corners of my cage.

With one strong heave they lift me.

Wherever my Arbitrator has me go. I travel by cage.

It was a logical step for him.

I was his prize. I couldn't be walking amongst the dirt and filth. Ridiculous.

I had to make a grand entrance. One worthy of his name. His title.

I couldn't possibly do that with sweat on my brow and mud on my dress.

Being tired from walking would hinder my Voice. Pure treason.

I needed to be extravagant.

Thus. Aseigan held me high off the ground. My curtains were drawn to keep the sun and dust out.

The Aseigan carry me. Arbitrator Su'ete walks in front of us. His pace dictates how quickly we travel.

I try to imagine the looks we get. From Yautja watching the parade we put on. My Arbitrator its leader. When they see the silhouette of the girl that I am. Do they see an exotic bird?

They are strange thoughts. But they are mine.

As I sit in my traveling cage. I listen. To everything. I cannot see through my curtains, but I know the sounds by now and where they come from.

I imagine the feral plants and wild trees. The Yautja Sun seeps in through the sheered fabrics of my cage and the jewels hanging sparkle because of it. For a moment I close my eyes. There is a dry wind. Still. It did not bother me. As though not even wind could touch me. Not when my Arbitrator was around. No.

When we arrive to our destination, my curtains open.

I am a performer.

Arbitrator Su'ete extends his talon hands and I take it. I am careful to walk out of my cage. For even though the Aseigan have lowered it close to the floor I am still considerably high from the earth below.

With a small leap I descend. My bracelets make noise. My feet land on the stone below. I notice we are at the mouth of a brightly lit cave.

I let go of the gracious talons offered me. I do not look up at Arbitrator Su'ete.

We are in foreign territory. For me to look up upon the Warriors is improper. Dishonorable. It would not reflect well on my Arbitrator.

I have made it a habit to not look at my surroundings. To lower my eyes but not bow my head. To be respectful but only submissive to my Arbitrator. It is subconscious rather than enforced.

It does not bother me. I have an important duty here. The only one that matters.

After walking a short distance my Arbitrator stops short in front of another.

He is grayer, a little taller and just as imposing. In the darkness of the cave we are in, this Yautja blends like a shadow ready to strike. The numerous bomb fires around us cast his figure to be even more threatening than I would assume he is.

Though it is not my place to assume anything.

They shook each other's shoulders in greeting. Su'ete and he. Things seem amiable between them and as they begin walking I follow.

It is so dark I must focus on Su'ete's cape in order not to get separated. I had long passed the childish tendency to hold on to it. Still. Even in this darkness it is not lost to me that our host has given me a once over. Discrete as it was.

His name is Mahnde. This is his party.

"_It pleases me greatly that you have decided to attend,_" he clicked to my Arbitrator.

My lessons in Yautja had expanded to conversation. Not entirely because of Arbitrator Su'ete's own volition. I had adapted enough to teach myself a little bit. He off-handedly furthered my education on the subject. Not encouraging or condemning.

If he noticed how good I was at understanding. He didn't care.

Anyway. Mahnde was talking.

"_Guan has returned from overseeing this seasons Chiva. Your presence will hopefully spare the lot of us from his zealous list of everything the Young Bloods did wrong.”_

Although I dared not look up. I felt his gaze on me.

"_Perhaps your pet will distract his usual tendencies?_"

"_You waste no time._"

"_Neither does he._"

I knew nothing of Guan. But I happen to know that Mahnde was the Gatsby of Yautja. At least. The ones in Su'ete's inner circle.

The extravagance of a friend reflects your own extravagance. Arbitrator Su'ete was imposing by himself. I was a bonus. Surely we were enough to silence this Guan.

Which is why we were being led to our seats. Usually Su'ete would actively swim the sea of guests. But this was a friend's gathering. We were honorable guests.

Thusly we sat in luxury. Next to the host.

I was seated at the foot of my Arbitrator's throne. On a red velvet cushion big enough for two of me. One he had specifically called for. It was comfortable.

Much of what we do here involves Su'ete's business practice.

Playing politics is something Arbitrators are generally spared from as their role is more in the active punishment legislator. Yet they cannot escape from politics entirely.

Hidden amongst lavish gatherings and fireside festivities, Elders, Ancients, and Matriarchs alike continuously pursue subjects of law and regulation. There is truly never a moments rest for the Yautja. Always trying to be the bigger fish. Parties serve only as another excuse to show off.

This particular aspect of the game is never hard for my Arbitrator.

The gathering was beginning to go under way.

We had the high ground. I saw the fires and mingling bodies below.

It was here that Su'ete sent a gruff my way.

I Sing for the crowd.

To be perfectly honest. Su'ete is absolutely shameless when it comes to flaunting me. Wherever he goes. It is very rare for him to be invited anywhere and not take me. I've counted. It's only happened three times.

I imagine he enjoys hauling me around to have me entertain society.

And it's not just him. It is often that Su'ete is called solely for the purpose of hearing me Sing.

He does not mind this.

I strongly believe it only makes him incredibly pleased with himself.

The silence of those around us. Intent stares. Full rapt attention.

Like a spell. I could call upon everyone to stop and look.

A Yautja only desires immense popularity and unaltered recognition. For a few minutes of my Song. Su'ete has that.

It swelled his pride.

I finish my Song.

Yautja don't clap. That's a human trait. But just the look on their faces reminds me of the concert I once Sang for. Long ago.

I don't think about those times. But the roars and euphoria from the Yautja below are an echo of the species I used to belong to.

Because Su'ete wasn't necessarily here under political terms. He could relax.

Mahnde chatted with him exclusively. Those who wanted to talk to either of them had to approach. Su'ete preferred this arrangement. He hated having to circulate.

From time to time. He would pet my head. As if to show his appreciation.

After all. I did make us a smash hit.

That being said. I suppose I didn't mind being his Glorified Pet.

He purred. Sometimes. In the whiles where no one talked to him. When his attention did not dwell elsewhere. I can say that it made me happy. Although I didn't really know it yet. I was happy. That I could bring him those moments of peace and satisfaction. That I made others envy him. That he was proud to keep me.

Keep and not merely own. That was the first time I thought of it that way.

Because this Guan persona did not approach. I suspected the plan to be a success. The usual _Cn'tlip _rounds were made.

The whole event went by smoothly.

Actually. It was all very well until late into the night.

* * *

I had become accustomed to Yautja time. My body adapting to the longer days and nights.

When we arrived back to our den. I had thought it had been another accomplishment in Yautja High Society.

_Cn'tlip_ had the effect of making Su'ete obtain a rather pleasant mood. So to speak.

Therefore. I sat in my cage. Watching gaily as his shrill laughter filled the echoing room. Continuously. It was very childish of me to do so. Watching him as if he were a spectacle. But it was also very childish of him to be half-drunk.

He did not mind. My smiling and staring.

When he approached my cage. Leaning his weight on the bars. He looked down at me. Humored by my joy.

"_A'ket'anu'Kalei_," He said as he petted me. Purring in his own special way.

I had never heard the words before.

But apparently it made him happy to say it. His eyes softened.

It was times like these. That he was very tender.

I felt I could do nothing to anger him.

That meant something to me.

The Aseigan had long since left. They knew. Very well. That their presence would offend his high spirits. They hadn't my amnesty.

Despite all this positive feedback. My initial belief of the day turned sour.

All of a sudden. Su'ete looked tense.

Absently. He gave me one last pat on the head. Retired somewhere else. Something told me it was not to his bedroom.

I was left alone.

Strange. But I did not question. Perhaps he had a drink too many. This time around. He wasn't the type to overstep his rounds. But everyone slips. Occasionally.

Sleepiness crept over me. Su'ete may not have been tired but I was. I did not feel like I had enough strength to even Sing once more for him. Which is what he would often ask of me. Before retiring.

He would simply have to understand. If he found me asleep on my cage pillows.

Just as I was about to succumb to its embrace. I heard something. At the end of the long hallway entrance. Someone was coming.

Two someones. I would soon see.

Yautja younger than Su'ete. Not Aseigan.

They stopped in front of me.

I looked down. They were strangers.

I knew they meant nothing good. Not unless Su'ete said otherwise.

Speaking of him. He emerged from one of the rooms.

He had smelled them coming.

Not an ounce of his previous contentment remained. Arbitrator Su'ete held his strong and superior look as always.

Probably. Having already sensed their arrival. His reason for leaving earlier was to freshen up.

He would be no drunk fool in front of them.

My Arbitrator stared them down. Imposing as ever.

"_Speak._" he ordered.

All at once the two Yautja bowed to him. Kneeling before his presence.

"_Honorable Arbitrator Su'ete'cha'aka,_" one clicked.

"_Who else would I be?_' My Arbitrator huffed, "_This den belongs to Su'ete. I am he._"

A fool worthy mistake on the Young Yautja's part.

Then again. Su'ete gets extremely irritated whenever someone interrupts his _Cn'tlip _induced moods.

The Young Yautja dared to glance at me. Perhaps a fool after all.

Any Yautja. With enough sense. Knows not to look at the prize of another.

This action. Only served to irritate Su'ete more.

He growled at the Young Blood.

"_Forgive me,_" the Young Blood bowed his head once more. "_We come with a message and a gift._"

Here. The Young Blood reached into a pocket of his armor. Hesitantly.

Su'ete eyed him. The Young Blood pulled out a shining object. Thin. Delicate.

A necklace.

Su'ete huffed in annoyance.

At this point the Young Blood was not leaving a lasting impression.

It had become common practice. Anyone who came to see Su'ete. Often had gifts for me.

This was done merely to appease Su'ete.

Soften him up before they asked him for something.

A token to his outstanding prize. As if to say. That they recognized his great honor.

Unless the gift is made of gold or expensive jewels, he isn't impressed.

I remember one who brought a carved wooden pendant. Hung from a leather string.

He had sent the offender to near-hell.

I got to keep the necklace. Though.

In the here and now. This particular trinket was nothing to gawk at.

A simple beaded thread. A green jewel hanging from it.

I have ten like it. Much more glamorous in design.

Arbitrator Su'ete thought nothing of it. Clearly. Too simplistic for his tastes.

In one quick movement. He snatched it from the Young Blood. And let the necklace hang from his claws. In my direction. I took it humbly.

I liked it.

Then again. I like all the gifts. Which is another thing that annoys him.

I'm uncultured. Su'ete decides what is good enough for me to wear.

Anyway. Back in the here and now.

Arbitrator Su'ete was hardly pleased, "_You've done your research and came prepared. Speak clearly. What is it that you seek, Young Blood?_"

"_The Oomans that Honorable Mahnde’a was to release in the Coliseum in daybreak have escaped, Arbitrator Su'ete’cha’aka._"

Su'ete's mandibles flared.

Mahnde. Was also the Julius Caesar of Yautja kind. He owned a coliseum were elitist Young Bloods of honorable families could hunt or fight Humans in _Jehdin-Jehdin_. In hand-to-hand combat.

These Humans must have been picked up from the reserve planet. Truly impressive if Mahnde had decided to use them for his games. They must have served for long seasons on the reserve.

To be hunted or fought _Jehdin-Jehdin _in the arena, with spectator Yautja around you, was considered lucky here. Honorable, even. Not so much for the Humans who died there. It was one of the reasons Humans had wanted to negotiate with the Yautja, in the first place back on the _Heavenfall_. To get back our stolen people.

That was the reason Father could even sell me to –

Well. That was the reason he had the chance to sell me.

Humans.

I have not thought of my species in a long while.

The party had been a pre-coliseum bash. I had not known.

I wasn't shocked. But. I wasn't happy.

Su'ete could tell.

"_Mahnde requires me to lead the hunting party?_" He growled.

"_H'ko_," the Young Blood shook his head, "_Honorable Mahnde’a believes them to be lost in the catacombs. However, he requests you be on alert in the event he does require you._"

At this the Arbitrator turned abruptly. A roaring rumble emanating from his chest.

"_Tell Mahnde that his requests are C'jit to me," _Su'ete barked harshly,_ "Unless my presence is urgently desired, I will not be bothered again._"

"_Honorable Arbitrator - _"

"_Leave._"

The Young Blood was wise enough to do as he was told.

When the Yautja and his companion left us. Su'ete was in a fouler mood then before.

His left hand gripped at one of my cage's bars. Clenched in annoyance.

At any moment. He could have broken it.

His right hand beckoned me to soothe him with a Song. Something joyous. No doubt. He wanted a distraction.

I was wise enough to do as I was told.

Though my mind was elsewhere. I Sang.

Humanity was bothersome to me.

I dreaded the thought of my old Doctors. Of the Politicians. Everyone. Who had separated me from Father.

I loved Father. He was human.

By that logic. Humanity should matter to me.

Yet. It made no sense to me.

Humanity. Had not done a thing for Father. Or me.

That's why he sold me.

Had they been nicer. More kind. Smarter. Things would have been different.

But no. I believe I loathed Humanity to a point.

Still. When I think of those weary Humans. Set to fight like Gladiators. Facing lions they cannot win against. I feel uncomfortable. Sorry.

So I choose to forget.

In my Song I drown Humanity out.

Much like Su'ete.

As he ran his talons. Over my head. I realized this.

He wants to forget too.

* * *

The next day. At breakfast. Things seemed to be getting worse.

Our days are routine. Early mornings.

With me Singing as Su'ete grooms himself.

Hangovers. Are a joke to Su'ete. If anything. They only reinforce his will to wake at his ungodly hour.

After Su'ete is done. My Aseigan clothe me. Ready me for the day.

Su'ete is ever present outside his room. Waiting to look me over. If he doesn't like what I'm wearing he sends me back. He's done this dozens of times. Acts like it's my fault. Forgetting that I'm not even allowed to pick out my dresses.

We were in the banquet hall.

I had long since grown accustomed to eating near Su'ete now.

While he ate proudly at the end of the long table. I was at his side. With a plate of my own.

My diet consists of mostly fruits, Naxa, and some cooked meat for protein. Compared to Su'ete's dish of raw animal. My meals were anorexic.

Yet. He insists that I eat every single portion. Forever suspicious of me. This paranoia has no basis. As I have never left food on the table.

I suspect it's a Yautja thing.

While we were eating. Su'ete's wrist-com started beeping.

A message from Mahnde.

Su'ete hissed.

Apparently. The Humans had not shown up all night. Mahnde couldn't say for sure if they were lost anymore.

Knowing that he had already upset Su'ete with his little messenger. Mahnde had waited until morning to inform Su'ete that. Yes. His services were urgently needed.

"_Pauk'de Mahnde._" was the only thing Su'ete had to say about the matter.

Of course. He'd go.

But Su'ete was determined to eat first.

He proceeded to do so with extreme bitterness. Appetite gone to hell.

And in hell it will digest. For he would not go back on his decision.

"_Eat._"

He ordered me.

I stopped staring.

It worried me. That he would be in this foul mood all morning.

It's not the first time.

Nowadays. Every time his com has a message for him. For a target he must hunt. Su'ete becomes very agitated.

I began to strongly believe that he hated his job.

After our tense breakfast. Su'ete led me to my cage.

He had his claws on my shoulder. As if I would disappear. If he doesn't have me in his grip.

His pace is hurried and un-harmonic. I can keep up only out of habit.

Once we were in the greeting area. I entered my cage. Serenely.

This only offended him.

He crossed his arms at me. Staring intently.

"_Stay._"

I nodded.

Su'ete left.

Leaving me firmly in place.

He knows I will. Stay, that is.

He doesn't need to say it.

The same way he knows he doesn't have to lead me anywhere. I won't run from him and I know where I'm going.

Yet. When he's in his moods. He gets like this.

Every time he has a job to do. He becomes aggravated.

He needs to see me in my cage. Needs to know I won't move. If I so much as think of moving while he is on the hunt. He will know. And he will be cross with me.

I'll be honest.

When he's out on business. He comes home with a gift or two. At a certain hour. Without fail.

If business isn't required. Su'ete is a homebody.

He trains. Works in his study. He knows where I am every minute of every day. If that isn't to his particular taste for that day. He has me glued to his side. Wherever he is in his den. I am right there beside him.

When Su'ete is out hunting. It's another matter altogether.

He doesn't know when he'll be back.

Unless he has a burned image of me. Staying perfectly still. In one place. He will go insane.

It irks him. To go out and hunt.

As an Arbitrator. There's no way out of it.

So he throws his little tantrums. And gets on with it.

He never had this problem. Before me. Yet here I am now. And he hates to leave me. Hates not knowing. Especially hates that he will come out of the hunt angry and frustrated.

For the rest of the day. I sat idle in my cage.

Waiting.

Even when my Aseigan came. To oil me with my expensive perfumes. My mind wandered.

Su'ete's crankiness might have been contagious. I was testy.

I made their job infinitely more difficult. With my fidgeting. I was ashamed of myself. And at the same time. I really didn't care.

The Yautja sun was unforgiving. The heat made me tired. Everything seemed to distract me.

These emotions were ever new to me. They were far less pleasant than the ones I discovered before. I knew this. I felt this.

This was not the first time Su'ete had gone to hunt. I was surprised at myself for acting so childishly. The Aseigan would give me my meals. I would sleep in my cage. It was not as if I was in a state of abandon.

But I was still upset.

Perhaps it was the prey that bothered me.

They were not the Bad Bloods Su'ete usually hunted.

The Humans that I feel no sympathy for. Unlike Su'ete. The Yautja that Father gave me to. Father who trusted a Yautja. The one I now trust.

He was hunting my kind.

It didn't please me. Even if I didn't care for them.

It tormented me. To think of Humanity and Su'ete in the same sphere.

I hated that they mattered in some way.

They spoiled the growing kindness Su'ete had given me.

These thoughts swarmed in my head.

Ruining my peace.

It came to such a point. That I began to wish. That the Humans would have stayed put. To be killed by other Yautja. And not hunted by mine.

It was very cruel of me to think that.

So much. That it made me cry.

* * *

It is late. When I finally saw an image at the end of the Hall.

Su'ete.

He seemed disheveled. But unharmed.

I broke my vow of absolute stillness. Moved forward.

He didn't appreciate it.

"_Stay_."

His order was less than commanding. Yet I obeyed.

Su'ete himself broke his usual decorum.

As he made it to the front of my cage. He turned. And sat down upon it with a large flop.

Laying down on my furs. He reached out. And petted the strands of my hair. Like I was a pup in need of reassurance.

Perhaps I did need it.

All at once I felt. That I had worried about him.

He could smell it in my scent.

Worry. Not in the sense he could get hurt. Or hurt others.

I would never know if he caught the Humans. Or killed them. If they escaped. Though it was unlikely.

He made no mention of them. Ever.

To this day I don't really care.

What I had wanted. Was simply. For him to return.

In the same way. Su'ete needed to know. I was still perched in my cage. All I wanted. Was to know he would be back.

If it had been up to Su'ete. He would not have gone.

It had not been up to him.

He was silent. As he pet me. Contemplative perhaps. Or haunted. By whatever it was. That may have happened. Which I would never know.

I could have Sung for him. I did not.

Even when he purred. He did not demand it.

He may have thought that in hunting those Humans. To ask me to Sing would be insensitive.

Su'ete. For all his Yautja mannerisms. Was considerate this way.

It was enough. That I was there. And it was enough. That he came back.

It had been a long night.

* * *

Long or not. The morning always arrives.

Mahnde. Our apple of discord. Never learned to take a hint.

Su'ete had slept in my cage.

When I awoke. He was faced down. Buried in my furs. As if the sun overhead repulsed him.

He wasn't drunk. But slept like he was.

I shook my head in sympathy.

I knew for a fact he hadn't slept well.

One. Because it was well into breakfast time. He never sleeps in.

Two. Because my cage was pathetically small. His legs were sticking out.

Of course. The Aseigan had not dared to wake him. Fearful of his wrath. Good help was so hard to find. Especially help with backbone. They knew very well how he would be even more angry when he discovered how late it was.

I contemplated shaking him awake.

I did not have to.

The morning. Along with its heavy rays. Brought a loud wake up call.

The erratic beeping. Was enough to make his head lift. Glaring.

Arbitrator Su'ete cursed at his wrist com. He hadn't taken it off last night.

Like a lion. He shook his dreadlocked mane. His upper body shaking madly. I had to inch away in order to stay safe.

He saw me. Nodded. And lifted himself. Stretching any trace of cramped muscles.

"_Se-i?_" he growled into the device.

It was Mahnde. By the way.

He invited my Arbitrator to eat.

As a thank you for his services. No doubt.

Su'ete did not feel the gratitude.

For some reason or other. Su'ete had me come along with him.

I was quickly dressed. And brought up into my cage to be carried to Mahnde's den with him. It was bewildering.

Why my Arbitrator wanted to bring me. I had no idea.

I chose not to understand him. Merely to accept that Su'ete had to have his reasons.

When we arrived to Mahnde's den. He greeted us warmly.

"_Su'ete_!" Mahnde shook his arm, "_Mei'hswei, I am indebted to you._"

My Arbitrator said nothing in return.

Mahnde glanced at me. Noticing my presence.

"_You brought your pet._"

I was not offended. Don't worry.

For a moment, Arbitrator Su'ete looked at something in the distance, then huffed, "_You have brought yours._"

Mahnde titled his head in confusion.

Then. Suddenly. A huge Yautja emerged from the curtains. With deep dark scales and a bright yellow pattern I had never seen before.

"_Honorable Arbitrator Su'ete'cha'aka,_" the newcomer clicked.

"_Guan_," Su'ete clicked simply.

Ah. So this was Guan.

Mahnde began to chortle. A shrill hissing laugh.

He just got the pet joke.

Again. He shook my Arbitrators shoulder. "_Guan arrived earlier. He has been telling me tales of this season's Chiva._"

"_He has finally passed it?_"

More hissing laughter.

Normally. To joke about ones Chiva was insulting and battle worthy.

Guan was the type to let it slide in order to show self-restraint.

Inside. However. He bristled with a deep seated hate toward Arbitrator Su'ete.

One I will tell you about later.

In the meantime. This is the first encounter I saw of them.

Guan started with formality, "_I saw you at Mahnde's last gathering_."

"_I saw nothing of you_." Su'ete said with an air of aloofness.

His rudeness surprised me. But I had never questioned him before.

Su'ete was never a darling with his colleagues. He was a brute to everyone. Except. And on occasion. Me.

However. With this Guan persona. Su'ete exerted an extra bit of frost.

"_I chose not to approach you,"_ Guan dismissed my Yautja's curt reply,_ "In purity, I had been pre-occupied recollecting the Chiva to Elders Ke'pal and Dtre."_

"_Se-i. Your stories take up much time."_

"_Hardly," _here, Guan's voice sprinkled with bitterness, _"Your pet had everyone in rapt attention. I had not properly started when your songbird was the only subject worth conversing about._"

Had he been a less controlled Yautja. No doubt Guan would have glared at me directly.

But no. His eyes were ever fixed on Su'ete.

And in return. Su'ete held his gaze. Daring him to even hint at me.

I believed they would kill each other.

Mahnde choose this point in time to interrupt the dual conversation, "_Su'ete has brought his songbird_! _Quite a magnificent creature, is it not, Guan?_"

"_The voice._"

"_Of course_."

Guan returned his attention to Su'ete, "_I did not think of you as one who would covet such a trinket, Honorable Su'ete'cha. As exotic as it is…and you are…pragmatic._"

At this. Su'ete assumed a boastful puff of chest.

"_A worthy trophy must always be seized._"

I smiled at this.

My own chest filled with pride. Betraying my usual silent and still form.

He had never called me worthy before. It pleased me to hear it.

"_Worthy and fleeting," _now Guan was the one who sounded curt, _"An Oomans lifespan is…slight compared to our own. Still, we shall all enjoy your prize until it expires._"

A chill. Ran through me.

I hadn't thought of Death since I was with Father.

All at once I remembered. The needles. And Father crying. How I was Dying without any hope to even live. And I remembered my Mother.

I nearly gasped

Su'ete could tell.

So much that his gaze fell from Guan. His attention was to me. Full of sudden concern he had never shown me before.

It made me remember that I was. In fact. Alive.

Still. Had this been a battle. He would have been killed.

Unfortunately. Not all battles. Are fought with fists.

"_Come!"_ Mahnde clasps his clawed hand over Su'ete's shoulder again,_ "Su'ete, dine with me. As thanks for your services. Perhaps you will further grace me and Guan with your pet's talents._"

"_He has heard her._" Su'ete growled.

Guan looked pleased. "_Se-i. In purity I must be on my way. Another time Mahnde'a. Su'ete'cha._"

Guan left.

Suffice to say. My impression of him. Was less than savory.

Not only because his presence seemed to offend Su'ete. But because this Guan. Clearly enjoyed this offense.

Speaking of Su'ete. He clicked something that surprised me. And Mahnde.

"_S'yuit-de."_

He called Guan a bastard.

A rough translation. But needless to say. Lunch was spoiled.

* * *

When we got home. Su'ete was restless.

He paced about the entrance room. His clawed hands clenched. No doubt by the thought of the surprise encounter with Guan. Whenever Su'ete was exceptionally angry at something. He stalked to and fro. As if he was about to pounce for the kill.

Usually. He would go to the _Kerhite_ to shake it off.

Not today.

It was making me nervous. To see him so upset.

Never before had I seen anyone get under his skin the way Guan did.

In my cage. I huddled in one of the corners and watched him. Hoping that he would calm down for the sake of his own countenance.

I tried Singing.

My Voice was shakier than normal. Mostly because I too felt the venom of Guan's words.

But I did my best to soothe him.

It did not work.

Su'ete stopped abruptly. For a moment still. His hands unclenching and re-clenching. As if contemplating my Verses.

Then all at once the tense of his shoulders came back. He growled softly and turned around.

Without a word. He lifted his hand and bid me to stop. Marching straight along to his training room without even looking at me.

I knew I wasn't called to follow him. He wanted to be alone.

Guan.

It means Night in Yautja.

And like the night. There is darkness and danger inside of him.

It was always the same between them. Guan and Su'ete.

Su'ete cared little for anything Guan did. They were never comrades or rivals. And for whatever reason. Su'ete was unimpressed with Guan. The most he ever felt for him was utter annoyance.

Guan. On the other hand. Was always looking to outshine Su'ete at any turn. To over-achieve him. He lived to see the day where his accomplishments meant more than Su'ete's.

There isn't a conceivable reason for Guan's vendetta against Su'ete.

Su'ete belittles him. And his efforts at boasting. Simply to get Guan to stop talking to him.

For his part. Guan presses on regardless. Hoping to win the encounter every time. By striking a chord he knows would throw Su'ete off balance.

He succeeded this round.

And I was to blame.

I felt guilty. Knowing Su'ete was blind sighted by my fault. And that now he was destroying his _Kerhite _in pure frustration_._

It made me think. That what he said. About me being worthy. Was hardly accurate.

I didn't feel worthy.

My pretty Voice. Is only valuable when I Sing.

And only. When people want to hear me.

Su'ete. Is the one who dresses me. In jewels and gold. To make me appear more than what I am.

Human.

As much as I want. To act as poised as I can. In order to reflect his Honor. My Human mannerisms often overstep. I am a curious thing. I analyze those I shouldn't. I pay attention more than I let on. And my emotions often get the better of me. I'm a complication to Su'ete's life.

These thoughts depressed me.

I spent a long while. Sitting in my cage. Feeling useless.

It must have been nearly dinner time. When Su'ete came back.

I nearly leaped at attention when I saw him.

In the past couple of hours. I nearly convinced myself. That I was an ornament with no purpose. I was eager to prove that I was still useful to him. Suddenly nervous out of my mind that he might not want me anymore.

In short. I was panicking.

Su'ete could scent it in my musk. So he knelt before my cage. Laid a hand on my shoulder and had me sit down.

My Human insecurities were showing.

But Su'ete would have none of that. He raised his hand again. And motioned for the Aseigan to come into the room. They brought in a tray of meat. And a jug of strange liquid. I watched them intently. As always my curiosity won over all other emotions.

The Aseigan placed both items inside my cage. Su'ete had them leave immediately with a grunting command. They bowed as they exited.

I did not understand why Su'ete had brought these items here. I thought perhaps he wanted me to eat dinner in bed. But that didn't seem right. And Su'ete looked strange. Tired - or rather - drained.

In that instance. I noticed Su'ete's arm was wrapped in cloth. He had been bleeding. Profusely. My earlier panic returned. At the thought of him hurting himself in the _Kerhite._

Again. Su'ete held up his hand. And had me sit quietly.

I was beginning to feel agitated. I was worried for him. And confused about the meal set before me.

Su'ete did not keep me waiting long. He took the plate from my little nest. And here I noticed how there was only one single slab of meat. A mere morsel. A bite's worth. I grew even more confused.

Su'ete took the scrap between his fingers. And lifted it up towards my mouth.

"_Eat._" he clicked.

I assure you. I felt scandalized. For why in Heaven's name. Would a powerful Yautja. Want to mouth-feed a Human girl? As if I were a Roman Emperor!

My eyes grew wide as saucers. I shook my head on instinct. But Su'ete insisted. And with his other hand he pulled my jaw down. And my mouth opened. Inside went the feeble meal.

If I were a pretend Ptolemy. This was no grape!

The meat tasted terrible. It made me sick to chew on it. Su'ete knew this. And thusly he kept my jaw up.

"_H'ko. Eat it._"

I had to eat through the horrid flavor. He eyed me intently until I swallowed the dreaded piece.

After I ingested the thing. I coughed in disgust. Su'ete growled. But since I did not puke it out. He was satisfied.

He proceeded to lift the mug. I thought anything would suffice to wash down what I ate. So I gladly accepted.

Imagine my surprise. When I found the content of the cup worse than that of the plate.

The liquid was awful. Pure. Repugnance. I nearly choked on my first sip. It was vile. With a sense of slime. And a metal element I found intoxicating.

I wanted immediately to throw the cup away.

Su'ete had other ideas.

He placed a hand at the back of my head. And another he used to lift the cup to my lips. He seriously wanted. Me to drink the repulsive stuff.

I protested. I shook my head. Refused to taste another horrid sip.

Su'ete hissed. At my defiance.

I would have been shocked at my rebellion. But the drink was absolutely morbid. I would not continue.

Su'ete was prepared. It seemed. For he simply insisted. And pressed the cup into my lips. He was stronger than me. And though my will was fierce. He could spend days in the same position.

I whimpered. Pathetically.

His sympathy was touched. Though. Not enough. Su'ete merely petted where he had captured my skull. Again, I shook my head. Hoping. Perhaps. He would notice how I did not want it.

He let out a Yautja-like sigh. "_H'ko, A'ket. You must drink._"

Aket, Aket. That sounded like what he called me before. What was it? _A'ket'anu'Kalei_? What did that even mean. How was it even reagent. To my refusal. To drink such a terrible thing.

It was frustrating.

The smell of the drink. Was making my head hurt.

"_A'ket…_" Instead of growling. Su'ete purred to me.

He knew well I did not want it. But still. He held the cup to my lips. Gently this time. And looked into my eyes. His gaze was firm. But also reassuring. I could not refuse him. His eyes as inviting as they were. So I gave in.

I began to drink the revolting concoction.

Su'ete was relieved.

"_Se-i, A'ket,"_ He purred,_ "N'got. A'ket'anu n'got._"

I still did not understand. But his tone was comforting. It helped with my endeavor. To say the least.

The utter repulsion I felt in every gulp was maddening. I gagged at every swallow. And the more I drank. The more my nausea increased. I couldn't stand it. Like bile. Like the foulest form of vomit and other things.

I clenched my fists. Just to stop myself from throwing the cup as far as I could. My knuckles turned red. Tears formed in my eyes. As I silently begged. Prayed for Su'ete to stop forcing me to drink it.

Do not think him cruel here. He tried to ease my burdensome task.

Su'ete purred softly. Clicking in the most reassuring way. I did not understand him. But I knew he was being supportive.

"_Se-i, se-i…" _he kept repeating, in cradling notes, "_N'got, A’ket_…"

Also. He gently rubbed the back of my head. Trying to distract me from the taste in my mouth. And even though he continued to push the cup upward so I could drink. He tried to do so as delicately as he could.

I continued to drink because of this. I knew. That if Su'ete was trying to relax me. Than there had to be a reason. A purpose.

Finally. After an eternity. I finished drinking. I immediately pulled my mouth away from the cup. Coughing. And sobbing. For the aftertaste seemed to poison and remain in my tongue like a sickening plague.

Seeing this. Su'ete pulled me into his arms.

Part of me felt betrayed. Another part. More partial to my Yautja. Felt relieved. The turbulence from before was awful. I was glad it was done.

He caressed my back. And purred in order to soothe me. I could feel that he was sorry. And I was overwhelmed with the fact that he cared.

As I was crying. I imagined. That he was trying to be maternal. Like a mother. Who soothes her child. By telling her. That it's for her own good.

Indeed. That was Su'ete's intentions.

When I calmed down. He pulled me away. A little. And gently.

I looked into his eyes. Once more. There was a softness in them.

Feeling vulnerable, I did what all little girls were prone to do in times of distress and confusion. I leaped forward and hugged him. Drying my tears onto his chest as pathetically as I could. He let me. He held me.

It's a Yautja legend. That if a human is fed Yautja blood and flesh. That human will live for many great years. Longer than the regular Human lifespan.

I realized. That what I ate. What I drank. Came from his own body.

"_N'got, Very good, A'ket._" and I imagined, if he were human, he would have been smiling as he purred. Petting my head, "_You did very good, my A'ket'anu Kalei._"

As we all know. You only ever name something if you intend to keep it.

A'ket'anu Kalei.

That was the name Su'ete gave me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to my reviewers over at FFNET who were so broken down after my disappearance that they started leaving me encouraging and obituary-like messages praising a succinct if bittersweet but appropriate ending. For five years. They never stopped coming back to say they had re-read the fic, and the pseudo-ending and appreciated me wherever and whatever had happened to me. I read every single review over and over for five struggling years across various depressive episodes. It hadnt been the ending I planned. Far from it. I had written out an outline to the very end. And in five years I could never get back into it, only live with the nagging sense that it was unfinished. I kept thinking about the newly named A'ket and several important moments of her life that I was robbing from her. On July 1st 2019, I re-read this chapter and I said to myself; no. you're getting a happy ending. not a supposed one. not a resigned cancellation. hang tight.  
I re-read every single review and I said that I owed it to everyone and myself to finish. To me, it was never the end. It was the beginning. Everyone had just begun to Start, with all their problematic tendencies and vulnerabilities. Character development is not always a singular line where characters get better and better, but a chart with high and low growth points. So like hell was i going to leave EVERYONE like this, frozen in time, knowing exactly how they were destined for more.
> 
> Join us next week where I make a triumphant return and even sappier reflection. Also you'll be all caught up ;)


	6. Caroling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On time for once! My comeback chapter which marks the 2nd Movement of All You Have To Do Is Sing, oringal prose from who I've become over a 5 year period of ups and downs. When I decided to write this chapter, after a hiatus of half a decade, I found most parts to be as easy as breathing, while others I had to chip and nurture away at until I was satisfied. Even so, when I felt I was finished I tumbled and tripped over uploading it, anxious and feeling like I would be starting from scratch. I was sure no one would come back, and that the best I could hope for was new readers to wonder at this strange little story of mine that was only 6 chapters long and new in 2019 when it started in 2012.
> 
> reader, I was wrong. I came back to the people who kept encouraging me, and the very first reviewing of my ficlet came back after five years!! to say!!! how exited!!! she was!!! I cried seeing familar faces, and a hefty number of newcomers who had decided to binge and follow in good faith. This little chapter, which would have never existed as it does now, has brought me so much joy. During the process of writing and even now as I re-edit it for ao3, which indecently, is taking the formating style of this chapter WAY better than ffnet. Except for my line breaks! there's always somethin...
> 
> And now, the chapter ffnet waited 5 years for - you're getting a week after the last chapter that was The End for quite a while.

* * *

**All You Have To Do Is Sing, 2nd movement: Caroling**

* * *

Yautja winters are wet and humid.

One would think that the rain might bring about colder temperatures. Instead. The rain only made things warmer in different ways.

It rained much after I was christened. After receiving the sacramental bread and wine. As it were. That would further ensure my long and happy life.

Happy.

Father would’ve been satisfied with a long life. For any amount of life. As long as it meant I was no longer sick. Su’ete appears to share the same sentiment. Only it wasn’t sickness he could do without. It was my diminutive Human lifespan.

Happiness, however…

It is not something I had time to think about. Leastwise my Father, when he sold me. Neither was it an assurance Su’ete had given, when he gave me his flesh to eat and his blood to drink. It was all a matter of longevity. Survival.

Even so. There were worse ways to spend time.

I would often lay in my nest in the banquet hall to watch the heavens cry onto Su’ete’s lake. The transfusions, rustic as they were, did not sit well with my body as immediately as Su’ete would’ve liked. It was hardly as terrible as it had been to be Dying. Knowing this could only make me better, I tried my best to press on.

Still, I had a fever; and one of the few things I loved to do was be by the lake and watch the winter rain. Su’ete would let me. Naturally. But he did not completely approve the practice. He feared I would get sicker. And in the Yautja lifestyle. Such inconveniences ought to be avoided if they could. Especially if they result from trivial fancies.

But I was his A’ket. And I was sick. And I was spoiled. And so he let me.

His A’ket.

I smile now. Whenever I hear Su’ete call me that.

He gave me a name. And so I felt…like a Person. Not merely a pet. But a being he regarded and acknowledged.

I had not felt like a Person. Ever.

Amongst Humans. I was a test subject. An experiment.

To my Father. I was a daughter. And that is as close to a Person I had ever felt.

Watching the rain. I thought briefly of dear Father. And the snow I was likely never to see in winter again. Aboard the Heavenfall. They would make it snow for Christmastime. I could never play in it. Because I was Dying.

But…Father would watch it with me. Whenever he was back from his labs.

The idea made me happy. To remember candy canes and warm hugs. I imagined when it would be Christmastime in the Yautja year. When the rains were heaviest? Surely, I must have missed it what with their calendar being longer than the Human Orthodox, but it was the spirit of the holiday that counted, all things considered. All at once I began to get excited.

But. A second later. I felt extremely sad.

The one gift I wanted. I was never going to get.

As my heart sank. I heard a low rumbling from behind me.

I knew it was Su’ete. And that he probably scented my sudden downturn. Perhaps fearing it was a side-effect of my transfusion.

Often. Su’ete would stalk about me. Whenever I was out on the patio and he felt I had filled my quota of rain watching. It was his way of letting me know to go back inside. I would notice him immediately. But I did not move. Not until he told me to.

“_A‘ket…_” he clicked, with a slight purr. His tone was worried.

I realize not many would be able to tell the difference. Yet I knew. I could tell. Because he worried when I was in distress. And he purred to comfort me.

For a moment. I thought of ignoring him. Pretending I hadn’t heard. Sometimes I could get away with that, and watch the rain some more

But I didn’t want to watch the rain. And my eyes began to sting.

I felt him move towards me. So instead of waiting. I stood up and began to walk back in silently.

I didn’t want to think about Father anymore.

It hurt too much.

* * *

There was much to preoccupy my time as we waited for my fever to break.

Or rather. I had time to preoccupy myself with.

Su’ete had me under house arrest until I could go without a cold sweat around respectable society. A practical precaution. I had no idea of knowing whether what Su’ete did was even legal. Yet even if it was. I suspect it would not be as glamorous to have a little songbird perform while she was a delirious mess.

And I was. Delirious.

Lethargically so.

When I had been Dying. Delirium was a constant haze. A thick fog that kept me from thinking. It throbbed inside my head and would not let me move my arms or legs. Suffocating me. The pain I had felt was rooted and rotting in my stomach. It was often I would not go a day without puking whatever black bile had terraformed inside me.

Dying had been difficult.

Being sick was boring.

I had grown accustomed to going out and exercising my voice. My body. Seeing new places and Yautja. Since my Eucharist, I barely wanted to move to my little cage. And not for want from trying.

Su’ete would not let me be lazy. He still got up at his ungodly twilight hour.

Except, I would not rise with him. Sometimes I fancy that I could feel him placing his talons over my forehead before he got dressed for the day. Whether it was nothing but a nice recurring fever dream I can’t be sure. What I did know was that I cherished sleeping in for once. After years hearing about how it was a blissful experience I can confirm the stories are true. It’s absolutely decadent getting to sleep while the whole world moves around you.

Once Su’ete finishes his morning routine he comes back to my little corner of his bed chambers. As nice as sleeping is, I find the practice terribly addicting, as enough is never enough by the time Su’ete comes to pick me up.

Quite literally. He cradles me in his massive arms and I awaken in pathetic little whimpers by the time I realize I’m several feet off my furs and pillows. He is kind, however, purring through my protests despite how childish I must sound.

Once he has me in his arms one of my female Aseigan is left behind to replace, disinfect, and dispose of my sweat soaked bedding as need be. I believe they cycle themselves out, as I would feel absolutely terrible if just one of them had to deal with whatever grime had developed overnight.

Speaking of grime. I’m no better than the sickly sheets I leave behind.

When he came to pick me up on the first day, I protested ardently. I felt like a goblin, sweaty and scorching like a hellion. It seemed to me inappropriate for him to be touching something so frightening without a hazmat suit. Back when I was living in the Heavenfall, the Doctors would often go through levels of decontamination before even routine checkups.

He met my weak little protests with an annoyed shake of his mane, and worse, if I remember smacking his broad chest correctly, with a grunt-like laugh.

After that, I was docile, if not annoyed myself at this new habit of his.

In any case, Su’ete carries me to the bathing room, where my two other Aseigan are waiting, bath already warm and drawn. They take me from him. And if he is reluctant to part with me I suspect that it is because I am a fashionable accessory to his armor.

Once I am in the care of my two Aseigan they dump me in the water and scrub whatever illness I carried over from my bed. They are much less forgiving than they usually are. More so even when we had first been introduce and I was still a filthy little alien. I do not take it personally. I would hate to be the cause of any of them getting sick.

When I am adequately bathed and disinfected, they dress me. Though not as splendidly as usual. I suspect that choking me under the weight of fine jewels and mint gold would not be productive in my sweat-prone state. Especially since I would not be going anywhere.

The dressings are comfortable. Rather than resplendent. It is a testament to Su’ete’s ability to fuss when he does not mind my humble trappings in favor of getting to carry me to the dining table.

I have become awake enough to feel silly being carried as if I were a baby. If he notices, he doesn’t mind in the least. Instead, he focuses all his energy to spoon feeding me my morning meal. By now it is late into his day, and I feel burdensome with how much time he has no doubt wasted on making sure I live through the rest of the day.

I try to eat as quickly as possible. Mostly it’s a battle of wills between my attempts to hurry him out and his attempts to get me to swallow every morsel in spite of my lack of appetite.

“_A’ket…_” he clicks. Warning look in his eyes.

I’m sick and I’m contrary.

After our hard fought battle, Su’ete takes me to my cage. Leaving tired and repetitive instructions to my Aseigan trio, he finally leaves for the day.

“_Stay_.”

I’m too sluggish to protest.

In the time he is gone I am rotated between my cage, to the lakeside, to my bed. In an effort to keep fresh and clean. Instead of oils I am given soothing balms.

One of my Aseigan. The white one with very pretty red locks. She perfumes the air around me.

She’s apt at it. I have never seen the others attempt to do the same.

Frankincense and myrrh.

I laugh at my little in-joke. It seems that my hazy mind has decided that it’s Christmastime after all. I can’t fight my own thoughts.

Emboldened by the return of my good humor, I hear another of my Aseigan chortle. She is the one with molted green scales. Ever since Su’ete’s gamble with alternative medicine has left me weakened, this particular one of my group has taken to speaking. Not at me. And very quietly when she thinks I do not notice. At first I was puzzled. But it reminded me of how Father would start to pray whenever I got really close to dying.

I don’t know if she’s actually praying. But I like to think she is.

It happens upon me that green is also a Christmas color.

My thoughts on my little Human Holiday.

And my Father.

I began to Sing.

It had never occurred to me to Sing for my Aseigan. I would often Sing to entertain myself whenever Su’ete was not around. But I gave no care of whether any of his servants were around or not. They often were not.

But I had not Sung since falling ill. I believe Su’ete feared it would stress me.

Like my Father used to think.

Shaking my head from my more oppressing thoughts of Father. I instead focused on my Song. Putting on a show as I had not done since winter began. I wanted to be good. I wanted to thank my Aseigan for being so attentive of me. Perhaps apologize for ever being difficult in the past.

The season of kindness and all that.

When I opened my eyes. I saw them all rapt in attention. They seemed to realize I was not merely Singing to pass the time. But for them. Specifically for them.

I heard purring to the left of me. Surprised, but not enough to pause, I turned to find the last of my Aseigan was the culprit.

She was the shortest one. The shortest of the three of them who were all small and thin.

I remember how this fact confused me, after being around such powerful females as Matriarch A’yate. I was led to believe that all female Yautja were huge and magnificent. Far more than even my Arbitrator. But not her, it seemed. Even her associates where slightly taller than her, so I am to assume it is an advantage of female Yautja as a whole to be tall.

But this one was short. Far shorter than Su’ete, who was an actual giant, but I supposed by Yautja standards she was no more the height of an average Human. She was reasonably sized to _me_, in any case. Perhaps she was chosen specifically not to overwhelm me. Fancy, that I had not even stopped to consider what the process of choosing my Aseigan had been. They were a colorful trio, after all, I can’t imagine it had been at random.

Especially her, who purred warmly at my singing where her sisters appeared slightly scandalized. Whether at my boldness or hers I am not quite sure.

She did have one thing I would put above even the most magnificent Yautja woman.

She had the most gorgeous blue eyes I had ever seen.

I smiled. Finishing my song.

I supposed it wouldn’t be so bad to do a bit of Caroling until Su’ete came back. I was sick but not with a Human sore throat after all. Besides. He didn’t have to know I was Singing for them. It wouldn’t do to get them in trouble during Christmas.

* * *

I woke from my nap to find Su’ete already kneeling over me. Purring as he does.

My Aseigan have long since left. I am allowed to take a nap once a day in hopes that it will allow me to recover faster. I can’t sleep too much, however. It scares me and it’s too much like Dying again for my liking.

Early on, I woke up crying because I thought I stopped breathing. Su’ete had been there, and the way I had clung to his arm made him skip a whole days worth of work he would not let me go afterward.

I’d rather not sleep.

Drowsy, I looked up to find Him looking rather perturbed.

I reached up to my nose to see if I had been bleeding again. Another side affect that had returned from my early days of Dying.

No. I was blissfully free of bloody mucus.

I sat upright. More presentably.

From my nest by the lake one would think I was cold. But no. Once again the rainy season does not bring much reprieve from the heat. But it is nice to look at and listen to when one takes an afternoon nap.

Stretching away the last vestiges of sleep, I look again to find that Su’ete has sat himself next to me. Still with an expression of apprehension. Watching the rain as I would do.

I look at him quizzically.

He side eyes me with concern but shows me the instrument of his current mood.

There is a syringe in his hand that he passes to me.

Oh.

Absolutely not.

“_A’ket_ –”

He would sooner have to catch me –

“_H‘ko, A‘ket –_”

He caught me.

“_Stay_.”

Oh, but I am going to _struggle_ -

“_A’ket, stay _–” I squirm between his arms where he has me pinned against his back. At this point I have started kicking, “_A‘ket – H‘ko, A’ket stay – **please**_.”

I stop all at once.

Not without glaring. And not because I approve of what he is planning.

He said _please_. And if Father has taught me anything it’s _manners_.

Thinking of Father makes me soft.

In a millennia there still isn’t a direct sentiment for _thank you_ in the Yautja language. At least not one appropriate to say in response to _not throwing a tantrum_, though I don’t know how much Su’ete values not having to deal with me inconveniencing him. Could be not at all. Could be one less thing to worry about.

Regardless, in lieu of expressing gratitude He purrs instead, “_N‘got, A‘ket._”

Deflated, but not entirely defeated, I am open to His explanation.

Taking both my wrists between either of his hands, one of which still had the syringe which I eyed warily, I can feel his lower tusks massage the back of my head. I would hear him out. And although I knew I actually had very little say in whatever it was he was purposing, I appreciated his attempts to soothe me before it started.

“_It will help you._”

I looked up at him as best as I could backwards. Surprised. Skeptical.

He put my head back down, petting me.

“_It was hardly perfect, what I gave you, and that is why you have been ill. But it has done enough and time has passed, so we can try something better._”

Done enough? I would say as much. It’s done and made me sick since winter started.

But why tell me this, as if to convince me?

He doesn’t have to.

I’m His little errant puppy. He just has to make me take my medicine.

“_However_, _if you let me do it this way, you will get well again,”_ He continues,_ “It will be quicker, and you will not be in so much pain._”

I could feel his grip tighten over my wrists.

Why tell me this?

He hadn’t asked me before. He simply acted. Admittedly, it had made me upset, and I only forgave him because he seemed…sorry for it.

But…he doesn’t _have to_ ask me.

Because that’s what he was doing, was it not? Asking.

I kept remembering how He. Bought me. From my Father. It gave me a Feeling. Scorching. Like fire in my chest not like being sick. Or Dying.

It made me…**_Angry_**. To remember how Father sold me off to save me. How he had to do it. Because the Doctors treated me like a Thing to be studied because they had no Cure but the Yautja _did_. Su’ete _could buy it on a ship _whereas Father had spent _my entire life working_ to earn it.

It made me **_Angry_**. To remember why I had come here. That to every living thing on this planet, Su’ete was my _Master,_ my keeper, and I was no more than my three little Aseigan even with all my trappings of a fanciful songbird.

It made me Angry. So much that I shook in his arms.

Because if things had been different. I would be spending _real_ Christmas with Father, instead of pretending it was on an alien world and I’d like to _stop remembering Father right now_.

“_Do you understand, A‘ket?_”

A’ket.

That’s my Name.

My _new_ Name. One that Su’ete gave me. Because I’m Not Just a Thing. I’m a Person, once again.

And you ask a Person. You ask _permission_. You don’t go around stuffing blood and flesh in their mouths. You bring proper medical equipment and present them with options. You go out of your way to comfort them beforehand. Reassure them.

You hug her the way her Father used to.

I take a shaky breath. Anger making way for a strange little feeling of sobbing but instead its all over my body instead of my face.

Behind me, Su’ete begins to purr, but stops abruptly. In favor of loosening his grip on my wrists.

The syringe falls gently into my palm.

I hated looking at it.

The Doctors were always poking me with syringes back at the Heavenfall.

For fun, it seemed to me.

But…Su’ete isn’t like them.

He was worried. I had worried him. And he was trying to help.

He didn’t have to ask me. But he was.

The least I could do…

I wiggled free from Su’ete’s grasp and his lap. He did not move from his sitting position but watched me. Patiently? Respectfully.

As far as everyone else is concerned. I am nothing more than a pet. A strange little animal. But here. Right now. I’m being given some of my autonomy back.

At least Su’ete. Over everyone. Is treating me like a Person.

I hand him the syringe. Nodding.

Su’ete reaches over to take it. Giving my outstretched hand a gentle squeeze.

The syringe slips from my palm to his.

Turning it over. Su’ete eyes it pensively for a moment.

I wonder if he too has doubts. If he questions why he is doing all this.

For a little alien girl with a pretty Voice.

He taps his right arm, above the inner elbow, and with that hand Su’ete takes the syringe and presses the needle where I assume a ripe vein is waiting.

My reaction is immediate.

I lunge forward. As if to hold his hand. Muscle memory telling me that it should hurt. That he could be in pain. That life experience proved that taking blood out of oneself is not a _pleasant_ pass time, by far.

And yet this was Honorable Arbitrator Su’ete’cha’aka and He does not flinch for pain.

And yet this was Su’ete, and I worried that he _might_.

Watching as the syringe tube filled with his blood, I knew how it was _supposed_ to feel. So much that though his blood was green, I could only see a thick red liquid, mine, in its place. I tried not to, but the memories of the Doctors, their smell, the feel of their rubber gloves, became all too real again. All too _here_ again.

I lunged forward. But I froze before I could give Su’ete the same comfort my Father often gave me. Because even the reminder of my old life. The one filled with lab coats and insincere faces. Was enough to stop me.

As much as I had hated the Doctors before. I hated them tenfold now.

They weren’t allowed to terrorize me. Not long after they weren’t around.

As Su’ete took the needle from his arm, he looked back up at my shaking form. He began to purr, concern ghosting on his face.

I wanted to tell him that I was not backing out. That my tremors were more for the blood trickling down his arm. How just because he was hardened enough not to even think of covering his little nick, instead of letting it bleed out like that, did not mean it didn’t affect me. The way it always did when I would not stop hemorrhaging. When Father was around to tell me that it would be okay.

Instead of telling him, I extended my own arm.

He was surprised. But saw my determination. Saw that I was fighting through my own desire to flee, to run from my memories and what I feared.

But Father said not to be afraid.

Not of Su’ete.

And so leastwise I would not be afraid of phantom Doctors and nightmares.

I could hate them. I would hate them. But dammed if they make me lie to _my_ Father.

I closed my eyes.

I could feel him take my arm in his talons. Feel his thumb press over my inner elbow, looking for my pulse, my life blood and vein. I was as stiff as I could be. And he did not purr. Both of us so concentrated at the task at hand.

I felt the needle.

All at once I felt myself shaking. Felt myself try to rip my arm away. But Su’ete held me in place. As one hand pressed the Syringe forward, pushed his blood into mine. The other held me there.

There was heat coming from my face and I knew there were tears already streaming down though I made no noise and no movement beyond what I had already done. I did not fuss. I did not try to fight the way I had done before. I was simply sitting. Frozen and silently sobbing and trying to be brave. Trying not to feel.

I would not be afraid.

Su’ete pulled the needle out.

And I.

Gasped.

Letting out a chocked sob. I opened my eyes. Delirious. Not from sickness. But from all the memories I tried so hard to speed through. I tried to remember. As quickly as I could. That I was _here_. Not with the Doctors.

Not with my Father.

And that alone snapped me out of it.

That alone reminded me. That I was with Su’ete. That he was the one pressing his thumb over my wound. An action so absurd to me after his inconsequence towards his own, mirrored and bleeding, piercing in his inner elbow.

An action so hypocritical that it made me _furious_ at him.

I threw a pillow at his face. Sobbing.

I sobbed and Su’ete purred. Grabbing me by the wrist as I tried to hit him. He pulled me back onto his lap and into his arms and I let him. Not that I _could_ fight him. But I let him. And he seemed to know that.

He purred as he rocked me in his arms. And I cried as I attempted to bury myself into his broad chest. Both of us clutching each others fresh and bleeding wound.

I’m not sure if I was ashamed or just embarrassed at my severe reaction. Su’ete didn’t seem to care either way. All that mattered was that I was crying and whatever the reason he would like for me to feel better. And for that I was thankful.

I was also sorry. Sorry for the blood on his arm that I was desperately trying to apply pressure to. Sorry I was not strong enough to stop it completely the way he was stopping mine. Sorry that he cared enough to do this. To make me well again. To make me live.

It seems that every time someone would like for me to live. I hurt them in some way.

Pity, that.

There was something I could do. Desperate as I was to stop his bleeding. Sobbing as I was. Past my own physical weakness. Past the tears.

Between softening hiccups, I began to Sing.

Su’ete stiffened around me. Because it had so long since I Sang for him. I even Sang for my Aseigan, before Singing for him. And I felt bad for it, even though I would never tell him, because they had deserved it. The same way he did. As blasphemous as it sounds.

Deserved it because…they cared about me. Beyond taking care of me. They cared.

What ever his reasons for doing so. Su’ete cared about me.

So I Sang for Su‘ete.

And Su’ete purred for me.

* * *

The ordeal had been emotionally exhausting.

More so than physically, which I could sleep off. It had been the memories, the trauma, the pushed aside thoughts and feelings that had come rushing back to me that had caused me to react viciously to what should’ve been nothing more than a vaccine shot.

I have spent so long focused only on survival. Ignoring everything that would upset me. Scare me. There was always a new challenge to overcome, a new hurdle I had to face in order to _deserve_ to live. As if that was something you earned. Life was just something others _did_. And why shouldn’t they? Why shouldn’t I?

I have been preoccupied for so long, that I had not noticed how relaxing being able to _breathe_ had become. Here in Su’ete’s palace. Where living peacefully had crept up on me. Opened the floodgates to every injustice of my life at the mere presence of a _needle_.

It had always been easy to hate the Doctors. I hated them even then, Dying as I was. They always represented misery. A cosmic truth that I was not well and I could not be happy no matter where I was.

What was new was the Anger.

Hatred was fleeting. Any given moment the Doctors existed so did my hate for them. But when the moment passed it faded in favor of kinder things. There was no _Time_ to keep hating them. Not when I was Dying.

Every moment with Father was precious.

My head hurt.

For the life of me, I could not pinpoint why I kept thinking of Father. Not that I ever wanted to forget him. But suddenly it seemed that I could only remember him and feel pain. Even when I was first sold off, I did a better job of pushing through the fact that I missed him.

There lied the Anger. There again lied the injustice that I was now at liberty to feel. Before today it would have been a deadly distraction. Had I felt this way when I was still a newly adopted puppy that Su’ete had acquired, he would’ve regretted his purchase. Had I lamented and loathed my situation, Matriarch A’yate would’ve killed me on the spot. If I had botched my first outing, my debut show in society, with thoughts of fury at the audience unlike myself, I would have had no leverage to get Su’ete to like me.

And none of it had been _fair_. And I could see that now - No. I could _feel_ that now. I _let myself_ feel it now. Now that I was safe. Now that I missed my Father _so much_.

Hatred was fleeting. Anger lingered.

And yet. So did Su’ete.

We have spent all afternoon in my little nest by the lake.

Su’ete has not moved an inch from where he has me on his lap, even though it has been hours since my short little Song. Hours since I’ve stopped crying, even.

I think he’s trying to scent whether or not I’m going to die in his arms.

Anyone who dares come near, Su’ete growls at. Viciously.

By the third Aseigan, I willed him with pointed looks to be kinder. It wasn’t their fault that we were waiting for bad news. He was no less gruff, but then again, it will be years until any of them will feel safe enough to show themselves once more.

I have no doubts that he can spend weeks cradling me in his arms. If not months.

My stomach rumbles.

Above me, Su’ete lets out an amused little trill, “_Ah, so now you will eat?_”

I feel my face go red.

But I would not protest to being hand fed at the moment, no.

Su’ete laughs.

I realize that I miss Father. But I am not angry at Su’ete.

I’m Angry at every waking moment that led us here, but I’m not angry at Su’ete.

I’m beginning to feel. That I’m incapable of being Angry with Su’ete.

More gently than he would have otherwise, he lifts me and himself from where we have been sitting.

At this point, I would’ve preferred to be left to walk on my own two legs. For the first time I look outside and see how late it has gotten. We’ve completely missed dinner.

“_Where the Pauk are my Aseigan!_” he growls, coming out of the dining hall as if he hadn’t scared them all away.

As if he were not, at that very moment, ignoring my ardent little pats on his chest because I would like to be put down this very instant thank you very much.

From the shadows, one of my own Aseigan bows into view. The one with the pretty blue eyes.

I immediately try to flag her down. Between the two of us, I think we could take him.

Still ignoring me, Su’ete addresses her, “_Tell the S'yuit-de hiding in the back to bring her dinner._”

No longer for my sake, I give him another fruitless smack.

He finally rolls his eyes, “_Tell them **kindly**_.”

I can’t imagine there being a _kind_ way to call someone a spineless bastard, but it’s supposed to be understood that the kindness is most definitely not coming from _him_.

Bowing again, she disappears into the corridors.

For once, her sisters are not steps behind, and I think perhaps they too have been frightened into the barracks, poor things.

Satisfied with his reign of terror, Su’ete carries me over to my cage.

He knelt just enough for me to safely get down, which I did leaping to my freedom. If Su’ete was annoyed at my nonchalant endangerment, I did not look back at him to investigate. I was too preoccupied with the cramp in my legs from being curled up for so long. Unlike him, I did not have the training required to stay immobile and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike for goodness knows how long.

I stretched out my sore muscles and whatever bones needed cracking where grateful for the opportunity.

Beside me, I felt Su’ete sit down upon my furs with a loud thud of his own. Already he was rubbing the back of his neck from under his fantastically full mane.

Where I stood watching him, I wondered. Though it was true that physically an afternoon sitting on his legs with me on his lap was hardly even a penance for him. It must have been as emotionally taxing on him as it was for me.

Once again I began to think. That for whatever reason. Su’ete was invested in my continued existence. Beyond merely appreciating having a pet to Sing to him.

I did know one thing. I had seen this kind of posture before.

Hunched over. Tired. After a long day of not knowing if I would live to see another.

Su’ete looked just like Him now.

Even back then, I was only ever taller when he was sitting down, my dear Fa –

From the halls, I heard rattling as the Aseigan came into view. Every single one of them carrying tray after tray of food from the kitchen. I leaned on and over one of my bars watching the progression come to a halt where all the Male Aseigan usually stop. Far away from me as possible at the farthest edge of the welcoming room. Trying not to anger Su’ete more than they all had been yelled at for earlier that afternoon.

Only my female Aseigan came forward. Ring leaders to the strange little marching band who were anxiously waiting to not mess things up or at least flee if things turned sour.

They were a welcome distraction from –

Well. Things I didn’t want to think about.

Endeared, I turn toward Su’ete, who likewise seems endeared with the fact I appear so eager to eat for once.

He claps his hands twice. Giving order.

A parade of dishes and beverage where lain at our feet. Naxa. Meat. Even bottles of Cn’tlip seemed to have been unburied from Su’ete’s private crates. I sit down with an amused smile, wondering how on earth any of them expected us to eat all of this. Maybe Su’ete could, but I was hardly sure if I could even be this hungry.

Still, I found myself reaching out at the spread placed before my cage and devouring entire legs of meat. For some reason it tastes practically divine, now more than it ever did.

‘Suppose that’s what happens after an afternoon of intensity - both medical and emotional.

Huffing from being denied his favorite indulgence, I felt Su’ete wrap an enormous arm around my waist and pull me back next to his side. I can barely drag with me an entire plate of meat and vegetables that I was gulping down inelegantly. I have half the mind to protest before Su’ete dangles a particularly juicy morsel in front of me. Back to his old ways and tricks.

I’m too hungry to care about propriety and allow him to feed me, while still munching on the loaf of bread in my hands.

We will have words later. Maybe. I’m still eating.

“_Drink something or you will choke on your food, you foolish little thing,_” he clicks at me.

I don’t take kindly to me being called foolish, since I’m already a little thing, so I act out by stealing the goblet in his free hand.

“_A’ket –”_

Before he can get a word in edgewise I swing the cup back, taking a big gulp and -

Oh, darn it.

Well, I’m not _foolish_, but I certainly didn’t think that through.

I sputter whatever vestige of _Cn’tlip _remained in my mouth with a sour expression and even redder face.

Beside me, Su’ete erupted in roaring laughter. Head tossing back and eyes shut with amusement.

I reach up and stuff a berry in his mouth.

He nearly chokes himself, but that doesn’t stop him from taking both his hands and lifting me from the waist. I scream. And we both end up bursting into laughter as I fall down on my back with my head on his thigh.

Su’ete nudges my nose, still laughing.

I don’t think I’ve seen him laugh so. Even after parties.

Maybe.

I had never really seen him Happy.

Above us, I could now see incense smoke fade up into the roof from where I lay. Glancing, my Aseigan with the brilliant red hair was indeed perfuming around my cage. The green one muttering her little prayers where she thinks no one will be able to see her. And the blue eyed one. Ever the busybody. Is already attempting to tidy up whatever me and Su’ete have left alone. Signing orders at her little helpers, the male Aseigan.

Frankincense and myrrh.

All this reminded me of Christmas dinner. In some strange fashion.

It ought to be time to do some Caroling.

There were I lay relaxed over Su’ete’s lap, I began to Sing whatever little Christmas tune I could think off, with him purring as he ran his claws through my hair.

I Sang for the Aseigan, mine and the rest. I Sang for Su’ete. For myself. For the little fantasy I was playing at because a little Human Earth Holiday made me…

It made things feel more important. Somehow.

* * *

It was already so late.

Me and Su’ete had eaten and drunk our fill of the feast. Su’ete relaxing his back on one of my golden bars and drifting into sleep inside my little cage. Me Caroling to my heart’s content as I watched him. As far as everyone else knew, they were no different than my other Songs, so I did not have to think of any significance that would’ve soured my mood any more than Christmastime had already done.

The Aseigan were finally finishing with lifting the mess we had made, and I felt bad for them. And yet. They did not appear too cranky or to mind as much as they should have. Not that they can express such emotions so openly. Even as their Master slept and only his charge watched them. But I would say they actually appeared…

Jolly.

I let out a quiet laugh as the last of them shuffle out. Spring in their steps.

My three dear Aseigan are the last to go.

Without Su’ete looking. They bow lowly. And I think -

No. I know they were bowing at me. Thanking me.

This is the second time I have Sung with them around to hear. Specifically, so they may hear. And tonight, unselfishly I added the whole of the Aseigan to my audience.

The one with blue eyes chanced to glance up at me. Beaming. And though her sisters would not dare to do the same, they seemed just as pleased. Before retiring for the night.

It made me wonder. If this was my gift to them. My Singing.

Now. As the night fully enveloped us, and Su’ete slept beside me, I allowed myself to think of Father.

I don’t recall my Christmas gifts beyond the memories of them being more important for Father than they were to me. Every day of the entire year was a reason for Father to give me something. Anything. Because I was Dying and there was no guarantee I would live long enough to warrant a special occasion. An important day. Every time I did make it to Christmas, Father thought it a miracle worthy of celebration.

Toys, books, art supplies and games. I only cared for them because Father would be beside me. Playing with me. My real gift had always been that it was the one day a year that Father would stay with me, without the risk of anyone interrupting us. Without the reminder that I was a sick girl. It made it feel…real.

Like we were a real, untouched family.

I myself do not recall being able to give Father anything. Beyond singing Christmas Carols, ones he taught me, that was the only thing I ever did during Christmas that seemed to make him happy. Beyond simply not Dying that year.

I’d never really considered my voice a gift. At least. Not a gift that was mine to give. It was a gift I had been given from Mother.

Mother.

Well, now I’d done it.

I got it into my mind that it was Christmas. And I missed Father. And now I missed my Mother.

I truly am the worst.

“_A’ket?”_

I jumped slightly. Turning to see that Su’ete had woken up and was staring at me with concern. Probably having scented my sadness.

He purred, reaching over to play with my hair, “_What happened, A‘ket?_”

A’ket.

As far as I could remember. I knew one thing. That my Father had told me that my Mother had been the one to name me. Before she died. Before I killed her.

I loved that name. My Father loved that name.

She had given me two gifts. As it turns out.

One I used to Sing for the Yautja who bought me. To please him. To get him to care for me. To make him keep his promise to Father.

The second gift was the name I would never use. The name I would never hear again. Not from her lips. Ever. Not from Father’s - ever again.

Never from Su’ete.

Because to Su’ete I was _A'ket'anu’Kalei_. His A’ket.

And I don’t know what that meant to him. To call me this. I don’t even know what it means. Just that he likes to say it. Likes to call me this name I don’t understand.

That his green eyes are soft when he calls me A’ket.

I scamper into his lap. Willingly for once, and I could feel his surprise as I do so. As I barely keep myself from crying any more than I have all afternoon as I attempt to bury my face into his chest again. Trying to pretend that I was only sleepy. That I only wanted to go back to bed after a long, long day of not wanting to _be_, for a while.

And I felt Su’ete purr as he wrapped his arms around me again. Not believing me at all. But he didn’t ask any more questions.

Instead he lifts me up, as he likes to do, and he carries me over to our room.

And I can pretend. If I close my eyes tightly. That it is my Father or my Mother who is holding me and not Su‘ete.

And that makes me feel worse than I have felt all night.

* * *

Now that I was Singing again. I took to my old habits once more.

Su’ete had been right. I was feeling much better.

As fast and loose as we were playing with my health, it seemed that this gamble had worked out. The initial dosage had done the heavy work, paving the way and leaving my body weak trying to adapt to the rapid changes. The more precise injection acted as a repairman, smoothing out the rough edges.

I was still prone to dizzy spells. And felt tired after whiles. But soon we hoped the fever would break.

In the meantime, now that I was not liable to faint, I could stay as long as I wanted wherever it was I wanted to be. Instead of being circulated and carried everywhere.

Well, carried by Su’ete. Who seemed to insist on doing so despite my improvement.

My Aseigan were less obstinate.

They were content to keep an eye on me from afar, as I walked about the den.

No not walked. I began to dance as I Sang.

It was my form of exercise, one I have unable to benefit from since getting sick. I was beginning to get stir crazy with nothing to do and nowhere to go for so long. And I hated having to be sick and laying down. Tired of thinking about times when I was Dying.

So instead I danced.

I don’t think I was as good at dancing as I was at Singing. But that wasn’t the principle of the thing. Singing was less a hobby, but more a talent; it was also my job, of sorts.

No, dancing was _fun_.

And I wanted to have fun.

I didn’t want to think about memories, as Singing often made them creep up on me these days. I just wanted to distract my body. Become too distracted to care. Too tired after a set of Songs to worry about anything but resting after the fact.

A jump. A skip. A step. It didn’t make me a better dancer, but I felt my lungs on fire and for once since becoming a favored Singer in this alien world, I found myself struggling to keep up with every chord and every note. It was a welcome challenge. To try not to lose my breath as I danced across the house.

I threw a pillow up from my nest by the lake and attempted to catch it before I fell from spinning and Singing.

I failed terribly.

My blue eyed Aseigan smiled from where she was watching me at the end of the banquet table. She was quickly becoming my favorite. She let me dance all I wanted, and I didn’t mind when she laughed. Though she tried to keep herself from doing so. It still wasn’t right for her to take such liberties, even if I welcomed the change.

Her sisters fussed more and got anxious when I tried to do things against Su’ete’s preference. Whenever their turn to watch me ended, it was a relief for all parties involved.

I supposed we had all changed. Since none of us had been sure if I was going to Die after all this trouble. Now that it didn’t appear like I would, it was hard to get back into the swing of things. Not until the fever broke, at least.

Why, even I thought picking up dancing would help me sort out my scattered thoughts, so intensely had being sick mucked up all my past experience of Dying. I figured it was so far removed from how lethargic I used to be, back then and during my sickness, that it’d shake me out of it.

Help improve my condition, as the Doctors used to say -

Oh, damn it all.

My red haired Aseigan came into the dining hall and I stopped dancing long enough to see her worried expression. It made me smile.

But she wasn’t here for me, instead going over to where her sister stood vigil and whispered something I couldn’t hear. It could only mean one thing.

Su’ete was back.

Before either of them could stop me, I ran out the dining hall and into the drawing room where my cage was. Startling my green scaled Aseigan half to death from where she was freshening up my nest.

It appeared I had just missed him.

No matter. I began to look for him in every room. Running and dancing faster than my Aseigan could catch me. As far as I knew they were amusing me, not that I was sure what they could do if they wanted to stop me. I can’t imagine any of them would scoop me up and scold me, it didn’t seem in any way appropriate.

Emboldened with these facts, I began to Sing in order to get Su’ete’s attention. Draw him out from wherever he was hiding.

He wasn’t in the Krehite. Or our room. And I had just come from the dining hall and drawing room.

His study, then.

Still making a scene, I sprinted to the last place he could be.

I was right. He was already looking at his monitor when I came bursting in.

“_Have you been exerting yourself?_” Su’ete clicked at me, trying to be stern but instead sounding beguiled.

I scrunched up my nose at him.

He huffed, looking back at his monitor intently, “_You are supposed to be resting._”

Yes, and usually that is why I only see him when he comes to fetch me later on. But I was tired of being sick and tired. And in any case. Usually when Su’ete was home I would be wherever he was instead of just being in any of my nests. Being feverish had prevented the practice for quite some time.

And I…Felt terrible. For what I had thought about nights ago.

It hadn’t been Su’ete’s fault that I made myself sad. And I made him feel like it was.

So instead of dwelling on that, I tried to make things as they were before.

Thinking myself sneaky, I went over to his desk where he was engrossed in his work and tried to peer at whatever it was he was looking at on his screen.

Unlike the Aseigan, Su’ete _did_ pick me up.

I protested _immediately_.

Carrying me over to the entrance where my Aseigan stood waiting, with me kicking and squirming under his arm, Su’ete addressed my keepers with strict orders, “_She may dance as she likes, but I want her rested before dinner._”

I didn’t think I needed his _permission_ to dance.

Placing me back on my feet as if I were a doll, Su’ete knelt before me with a bemused and crooked smile. I pouted.

“_Behave, A’ket,_” He purred, petting my head.

Su’ete went back to his desk with a wave of his hand, signaling his order, and I was left with my hands on my hips.

He is _up_ to something.

I don’t know what. But I find his behavior suspect.

My three Aseigan wait patiently for me to compose myself, as none of them can lead me away without committing the grand sin of touching me. I take pity on their limitations, and muse that _for now_, at least, Su’ete has used my softness for their wellbeing against me. The fantastic cad.

We all retreat from Su’ete’s office space, me leading the charge as I attempt to decipher what he is trying to hide from me. He doesn’t usually dismiss me, and it’s unlike him to so easily give up on an opportunity to hoist me up and keep me trapped in his grip as if I were an infant.

Maybe he was upset at me.

I didn’t want to entertain such a thought.

Maybe he was planning something. Scheduling a party we would go to after I was well.

No, he would tell me such a thing, so I may train my voice beforehand.

It had to be something, and while my train of thought lingered, I went into my cage out in the drawing room to think it over. My three Aseigan looked relieved that I would not actually continue to run from them. Choosing instead to sit down and think.

It occurs to me, as I watch them catch their breath, that they might know the answer to my little mystery. But I don’t think they could tell me if they did. There are too many variables preventing us from ever actually talking to one another.

The thought makes me sad.

I have been sad ever since I began to pretend it’s Christmas. For such a joyous holiday it hasn’t really done much to lift my spirits as I thought it would. It’s even made me think that Singing isn’t enough.

It is enough for Aseigan. Who have nothing. Who are treated as nothing. While I have so much now, that it gives me time to miss my Parents.

I clench my fists against the embroidered pillow I hold from my cage. Even the texture reminds me how different of a fate I hold from the Aseigan. How hard I worked to _be_ different. I have a golden cage to lie in and somehow that makes me so much more than them. How is it not alike from the cage the Aseigan live in?

Singing is enough for the Aseigan. It is a kindness I can give them. But I don’t think it should be. It is as if I were flaunting the thing that makes me somehow better and saying they should be grateful. It’s not a proper gift.

My Aseigan gather around me.

The red haired one lights a burner near me, probably to clear my airways after all the running I did. The green scaled one begins oiling my feet and calves, most likely also because I was dancing all day. The one with blue eyes begins combing through my hair, which had been left wild for so long that the braids need to be fixed.

My Aseigan.

It’s not enough for me to feel sorry for them. Not unless I treat them as People. Even if I can only do so when we’re alone. Even if it’s only in my head.

Even if I can’t tell them. They should have names.

Tentatively. I reach out and place one hand over that of the green scaled one. Likewise, I place a hand over where the red haired one is holding the burner.

They freeze under my touch. And they do not look up. And I know that they are not likely to ever return the gesture. No matter how kind I am. Because they have lived in this world for far longer than I, and though I would like for things to be different, they cannot afford it.

I look up into the eyes of my dear one and see that the corners of her ocean eyes are smiling down at me. And I imagine how we could’ve been easy friends, if we could show affection openly instead of having to be subtle.

They cannot afford it. But they understand. And that would have to be enough.

Merryweather goes back to braiding my hair, as her sisters; the green scaled Fauna and red-haired Flora, respectively, return to their tasks as I removed my obstructing hands from theirs.

Whatever it is, Su’ete will tell me what he’s planning.

Even if he is upset at me.

In the meantime, I can’t make up for my behavior towards him, but I feel better knowing that I can at least make up for my behavior towards the Aseigan. At least a little. At least enough.

* * *

When I dream, it’s like I’m in a Song

In this Song, the lyrics don’t have to make sense, even if the feelings behind them do.

There are people here that shouldn’t be. And places I have never lived in that feel familiar despite the fact.

Mother is here. And I know we are living in Earth. Like she wanted.

Dream me looks around at this unfamiliar house. As if I had ever seen it. Like I hadn’t made it up so often in my mind that it actually exists. At. This. Very. Moment. as if it always had.

<strike>Dream me is something of an idiot.</strike>

I watch her run up against the stair banister. As if there wasn’t anything more important to do. As if our Mother was not right there. Why are you

wasting

so

much

time?

When you could be with Her?

Instead of racing against no one on the stairs.

I feel like someone should be behind me. Making sure I do not trip and fall.

<strike>I hope Dream Me trips and falls.</strike>

Mother has me in her arms.

I know why Dream Me wastes the time she has with Her.

Because she can have Her whenever she wants. In this world that is a Song, there has not been a day since I was born where Mother wasn’t in it. That is the luxury of peace. Of having the thing you want most at your disposal. There is time to waste.

_<strike>A Mother you can take for granted.</strike>_ I want to hear her Sing.<strike></strike>

In my head. The one looking at the foolish little Dream Me. I know there is a memory of how Mother Sings. I don’t know why I can’t bring it forward. **It’s there. In my head.** But this dream doesn’t want Mother to Sing with me. To Finally Sing With Me. So I can show her how good I am now. How well I use her gift.

I hate Dream Me. She’s not doing what Real Me desperately wants. Just because she doesn’t have to. Just because she already knows how we sound together. I know she does. In this dream I have always had my Mother, and we Sing together all the time, and right now it doesn’t matter what we do because we have all the time in the world <strike>except that we don’t</strike>.

Mother, make me Make me a bird of prey. So I can rise above this, let it fall away  
Mother, make me Make me a song so sweet Heaven trembles, fallen at our feet

Mother says something in the voice I have never heard, one the recordings could never supplement, one I can’t transpose from my memories even to help me Dream it.

I just know Mother is asking Father what took Him so long.

He says that he’s done with his labs and he’s ready to spend all the Christmas Day long with us –

This is a story.

He read me this story. I liked this part. I am not an original Dreamer.

But Father looks tired. And that is real. I don’t know how my Mother would react to most anything, so everything she says or does I just feel. Like a Song. Father is different. When I see him so tired, it is the vivid image I have burned into my mind from all my life of knowing him.

And tell me if somehow some of it remained  
How long you would wait for me?  
How long I've been away?

Dream Me runs up to Him. Frees herself from Mother’s arms.

Instead of taking care of Him. She asks Him pointless questions.

I watch her look up at Him and I desperately wonder why she is such a pointless, careless little thing. Why he puts up with her pestering. Smiling the way He always does. Before the otherness came And I knew its name

He picks me up. And for once Dream Me fades away so I may enjoy it.

I’m getting so tall now, that my feet dangle as He holds me from under my arms. I wait for him to pull me close to him, like he always does, since I was a toddler and the Doctors let me go.

But the Doctors have never existed here.

I was never sick

and Mother never Died

and Father lives with us

on Earth

and we’re happy

I wait for him to pull me closer. So I can feel it, now that I can, now that dream me is quiet and dead. So the memories I have of how it is like to be held by my Father can bridge the gap and make this **_feel real_**.

But he doesn’t. He doesn’t and I <strike>want to cry</strike> don’t know why. He shouldn’t be able to just keep me there. But this is a Dream. So he keeps me up from under my arms, away from him. And instead of this super human strength being an issue, we all marvel on how he can barely lift me off the ground. How big I am now.

This isn’t quite right.

I want this Dream to mean something, but it’s all just nonsense.

I know my feet shouldn’t be dangling.

Because? I'm miles away, he's on my mind, I'm getting tired of crawling all the way -

Why doesn’t Father just carry me?

Mother tells Father to put me down. Suddenly, I feel like the Dream makes sense, but it doesn’t. I just know where I am now but I don’t and I know what we’re doing but it doesn’t make sense.

We can’t just start <strike>It wouldn’t be fair.</strike>

Mother kneels in front of me and tells me I am right.

Suddenly, we’re laying down in our little flower field and wait for someone who isn’t coming. The house is gone but that doesn’t matter. Mother is to the left of me. Father is on the right. This is what I always want in my Dreams. To be between them. To have Parents again.

<strike>Careful creature</strike>  
Made friends with time  
He left her lonely with a diamond mind

It doesn’t feel fair that I’m not enjoying this. Even if it is a fantasy, I ought to be able to enjoy it.

Beside me Mother watches the stars. I watch the stars. And I’d like to be somewhere else. I want to be. But Mother only talks to me when I’m Dying. Not when I Dream. So I stay. Even if I look up and wonder where I want to go.

I want to hug her and be wherever She is,

Mother breathes deeply. Father has not said anything. I don’t want Him to be angry, and I’m beginning to think he is. He’d be angry if he knew. Even if Mother liked it. Even if she said I could **_<strike>That which we call a rose</strike>_**<strike></strike>

I want him to say something, anything, just to find out how he feels,

“Do you understand my dear?” My Father says, “What I do. Is to save your –”

No, not that!

Not that, anything else.

Anything anything anything anything **anything** anything anything anything anything anything **_anything_** anything **ANYTHING** anything anything _anything_ anything _ANYTHING_ anything anything anything ANYTHING anything **_eLse_** –

“Don’t you think he was happy with you, even after I died?”

No! No he wasn’t, ever, in our entire lives and it’s not fair that he’s angry with me just because he wasn’t happy it’s his fault I’m in this field he could’ve just **_let me_** and be unhappy alone –

“Oh my dear, you can‘t do both. Not with your arms tied behind your back …”

I know.

I know, I know.

I know that I am dreaming. Because it feels like a Song. One I can wander and get lost in, the way I so often do. I know this is a dream, a fleeting Song –

And it’s my whole heart, While tried and tested, it's mine

And it's my whole heart, Trying to reach it out

And it's my whole heart, Burned but not buried this time

I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes o –

Mother doesn’t speak unless I’m Dying.

“Do you understand, my beautiful child?”

* * *

The fever broke.

I wake up with a start.

Panting, I reach up towards the roof above my bed, half expecting to see my hands shaking. No matter which way I turn them above me they feel steady. And I try to remember whatever it was that I had dreamed but I can’t keep it from slipping away from me.

One hand goes down to my forehead. It felt clammy, but it was cold.

The fever broke.

And it’s…

Early morning?

I look around my small bed, discover how I can barely see my shimmering jewels and hanging canopy linens beyond a bluish hue, and then I see how the sun has not yet peaked over the horizon through the cracks between the window curtain. Peaking over to where Su’ete’s bed is, I can discern the outline of his body.

It’s so early, that Su’ete is still asleep!

Grinning wildly, and before I can think myself out of it, I throw my sheets away and nearly fly across the room. If I’m quiet its only because I’m going so fast, and if I’m not tripping it’s only because Su’ete’s part of the room is organized, compared to my pack rat tendencies.

I nearly ram into what would pass for his mattress and then I discover an issue. His bed is ten times the size of mine. I look up to make sure he’s still sleeping, since now I’ve gotten it into my head to actually try to be sneaky.

He is. Su’ete, for all that he is a great warrior, sleeps knowing this is his den and that anyone foolish enough to try to kill him in his sleep would be dead by the time they touched the outside walls, let alone if they got lucky enough to get this close. He’d smell them in his sleep and then there would be a fresh coat of green paint on the walls.

I’ll have to climb it.

Hoisting myself up from one of his dangling furs I scale my way to the top of his mountainous bed. With every dig of my hands I pause a moment to check if he stirs – he doesn’t – and with every tug I slowly but surely reach my destination where the edge levels out flat. With a final pull I am victorious on top of the mountain peak.

Being sweaty won’t do, though, so I quickly wipe my forehead and gather my breath. Watching him, his chest puffing as he sleeps, Su’ete looks almost like a lion. Or a very big cat.

I smile.

And then I begin to shake him.

“_a-A’ket!_”

_Exactly_ like a big, lazy cat, by the sound of the hissing yowl that leaps out of him.

I giggle.

“_Kalei! I could have–_”

I’ve never been berated before, and I don’t intend to find out how it’s like, so instead of letting him continue I take his massive (and heavy) hand and place it upon my forehead.

His slack-jawed expression makes me laugh.

“_A’ket_…” His eyes practically beam. Su’ete kneels in front of me fast enough to pull me into a tight bear hug, “_You are well again, A’ket! You are going to be well – you are going to live – you –!_”

I don’t know why I thought his reaction would be any less dramatic than any other thing he’s ever done, but I’m glad it is. It’s so different than how it was before, the first time he cured me. We’re both different than how we were before. Everything is different. And for some reason this thought, more than anything else this entire winter season, brings me the most amount of peace. For once, my mind is blissfully quiet enough for me to enjoy this.

“_You are going to live, my foolish little A’ket,_” Su’ete breathes softly into my ear. I laugh again as he cuddles his cheeks against mine. I keep laughing as I hug his neck, hearing him say who knows what too fast for me to understand him.

I laugh so much that I almost cry.

Su’ete laughs, and he sounds relieved.

It’s not the kind of relief felt after evading disaster, not the kind of personal relief that a gamble had worked out favorably. It was unselfish.

I felt that he had worried for me not because I was his pet, or his prize, or because my voice was the only thing he valued. It was not an investment he had feared losing. It was evident in the waver in his voice, the tremors in every tendon and sinew as he held me there tightly wrapped around his giant arms.

Su’ete laughs, and he sounds Happy.

“_Come, A’ket, we will have a grand feast in your honor!_” Su’ete says in a bellowing voice as he lifts us both off his bed, “_I want every corner decorated, the dining hall filled to serve fifty guests, and I want you buried under the **finest** silks and jewels!_”

Su’ete spins me around and I can’t help but squeal in delight. He’s lost his mind, and so have I, as it would appear.

It’s like this that he parades me out of our room in what I _believe_ was dancing, but I am too amused to ask. Shouting orders to the Aseigan to wake up and realize his impromptu party.

I am along for the ride, clinging to where I have wrapped my arms around his neck to hug him as Su’ete goes from room to room announcing that his A’ket is well again and that we are celebrating the fact. It doesn’t matter if there is no one in the rooms we enter, even his armory is treated to the news.

“_Paya herself smiles upon my A’ket!_” He declares for the hundredth time. I am getting dizzy with all this spinning, but I won’t spoil his fun.

Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather finally emerge from the shadows of the servants’ quarters. They look disheveled, what with the early hour, but awake enough to follow orders to the letter.

“_I want her dressed exactly as we discussed earlier,_” Su’ete tells him with certainty.

It piques my curiosity. Has he planned for my possible breakthrough? Before I can make a show of inquiry, he (for once!) lets me down gently so that I may stand on my own two feet. I am so delighted that I spin around for him, though without him to steady me I wobble under the dizziness from earlier.

Su’ete purrs, kneeling once again in front of me to better pet my head, “_You may do whatever you like today, and I will not leave but to get whatever you ask for._”

He’s being silly, but I am too fond of him at the moment to care.

Hugging Su’ete once more, I am ushered away by Flora and Fauna.

Once we are in the privacy of the bathing room, Merryweather begins to purr.

* * *

My three fairy godmothers go to work as they would’ve normally done before I got sick. Only now it’s more exciting than it used to be. For one, instead of doing things _to_ me as they once did, silent and efficient machinations sent to task, they’ve become much more involved in asking for my opinion.

Fauna rolls out some red cloth for me to look at, of varying textiles and shades. She looks at me expectantly from where I’m finishing my bath (finally, I can bathe myself again!) and I think she looks cute sitting next to my selections. The red compliments her scales, even if they’re molt-y, and she’s wide eyed as if she’s being allowed to do something fun, for once. I pick the red silky one, it shimmers nicely in the light.

By way of drying me off, Fauna starts to tailor it around me. I think I’ve grown in my time of wearing comfortable pajamas, because she’s engrossed in taking new measurements.

In the meanwhile, Flora starts putting all sorts of jewelry up against the fabric, as if to ask me what I don’t mind adding, weights as they are to me. I like the emeralds more than the jade this time around. I’m feeling sparkly today. Flora seems delighted by my choice and starts to at once to put on my arm bands and rings, going up until she reaches my neck. Every so often she leans back to examine her handiwork and adds something or other.

Finally, when my outfit is done, I sit down so Merryweather can comb through my hair and cut my frayed ends. She adds some golden twine to twist into my braids. They make my hair shine with the rest of me and will probably stay in place until the next time Merryweather does my hair.

It occurs to me that her tools aren’t typical for Yautja, that they are probably one of the many things Su’ete must have commissioned for me. Even though it was probably a practical decision, I still think it was nice of him. And Merryweather has been good at using them since she started taking care of me. I don’t remember ever seeing her hesitate or fumble.

By the time Merryweather is on my last braid, Flora is just about done strapping up my sandals and Fauna has wrapped a belt of golden coins around my waist.

They step back to admire their work, beaming for the first time.

I smile back at them. They look happy.

Happy…

At their handiwork, maybe. But. As much as I have grown fond of them, I think it’s safe to assume that the feeling is mutual.

It’s safe with them.

Still smiling, I start to dance for them. Spinning as every little bounce creates music of its own, every bracelet starting to jingle from my arms to my feet, and every coin chiming against my waist. I realize that there’s a bell at the end of each braid as my hair flies everywhere I move. It’s charming. I think for once I feel beautiful.

I also trip and fall.

This dancing thing is difficult.

Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather rush to every side of me, cooing and trilling from their concerned chests. By the time they’re kneeling around me and checking every limb I burst out laughing.

The coos turn to gentle purrs – and I realize that it’s louder than when Merryweather does it alone. Everyone is purring. And as it dawns on me I smile at Flora and Fauna.

Flora seems scandalized at herself, but Fauna gives me her wide-eyed expression once more. It feels nice. Knowing that they feel like Merryweather does. That they all care about me the same amount. The same way I care about them. We’ve grown into it.

Merryweather makes the decision that I will live through my injury and motioning to her sisters the three of them help me to my feet, smoothing out every wrinkle and stray hair. With a final once over, the four of us step out.

Me at the front, and the three of them two steps behind me.

* * *

Su’ete is better than his word.

He said that he wanted every corner of his palace decorated as if we were having a party, and true to form the Aseigan have worked their magic. In the time it took me to get ready, the parlor has completely transformed into a thing of beauty. Every torch was ablaze, bouncing light onto the glittering diamonds that served as lamp headings. The sheer tapestries that were wrapped above the roof were unfolded and made to hang low, their beaded crystal drawstrings decorative in their own right as they swung gently in the wind. There were petals of every alien type of fauna imaginable scattered on the floor I walked on. The air smelled like spices.

I was awestruck, taking it all in as I turned around and around.

“_I seemed to have failed, A’ket.”_

I jumped toward the direction of Su’ete’s voice, finding him arms crossed and amused from where he stood watching me.

I can’t imagine how he’d consider all this a _failure_.

Laughing at my bewilderment, Su’ete picks me up, “_You are still the most resplendent even among all the splendor that I own._”

He’s incorrigible. I can’t help but laugh.

“_Come, we will dine and I expect you to eat every piece,”_ He already has me trapped in his arms, so I can hardly protest when he starts making way towards the dining hall. Perhaps sensing my exasperation at his insistence both in carrying and feeding me, Su’ete adds, _“Afterwards, I have a surprise for you that I believe you will like._”

Well, then. Maybe I can indulge him _a little_.

Su’ete chuckles again, in his chattering way, and we both pretend that I am not dying of curiosity.

The dining table is filled to the max with foods, drinks, and dishes I have never seen before, even on Earth or since my stay on the Yautja planet. It’s like a carpet spread before me and the sheer magnificence of it all.

Surely he doesn’t expect me to eat _all_ of this at once.

I give him an incredulous look.

Su’ete pats my head, “_I assure you that for once you will not object to having a meal._”

Doubtful. But I keep my suspicions to myself.

He sits me down on one of the high chairs, a practice Su’ete has begun since I got sick (so that he could better feed me) but unlike when I was a delirious mess, I can finally appreciate the freedom this gives me to pick and choose.

I reach over to whatever looks edible enough not be a fanciful decoration and take a bite out of a white and soft looking cake.

Oh.

Oh, it’s like sugar and cream!

Su’ete hides his amusement at my enraptured expression, but I can hardly be annoyed when I keep reaching for these strange delights and finding that each one is sweeter than the last. He never said that they’d be delicious! He’s devious.

I wonder how he knew I would enjoy sweets. It’s not something we usually have, Naxa and other fruits none withstanding. I didn’t think it would be something that Yautja would partake in, and some of these looked baked instead of grown so they must be societal concoctions.

Looking at Su’ete, I found he was quietly munching on some scraps of meat. I found it incredible that he hasn’t told me to eat some protein, in favor of indulging my sweet tooth.

Well, it won’t do.

I take a piece of what I assume is alien chocolate (it’s bitter but in a deceptively rich way) and stand up to reach over to over it in front of his open mouth.

Su’ete looks scandalized.

Which is absurd considering how often he feeds me, and I’m not even the master of the house.

“_All this is for you, A’ket, you do not have to share it._”

Nonsense. I insist until he reluctantly accepts the would-be chocolate. Seeing his face go from slightly bewildered to incredibly grateful the minute he takes a bite confirms my theory that everyone in the universe loves chocolate.

I try to keep from laughing, since he did as much for me.

Jumping down form my chair –

“_A’ket be careful –_”

– I quickly gather a giant plate full of sweets and tug on Su’ete’s arm until he follows me down to my nest by the lake.

Today I get to do whatever I want, after all.

I throw some of my pillows next to my large cushion and pat them down until he realizes that I want him to sit down next to me. Su’ete obliges, watching the rain with me like we did when he brought the syringe. Only this time it isn’t here to bother either of us.

I offer to feed him more cake, which he accepts. Su’ete even makes a show of throwing some up and catching them between his mandibles, making me laugh. I let him feed me some as well, and we spend breakfast like this until the entire plate is empty.

* * *

After our hearty breakfast, Su’ete takes me on his lap, staring at me with great suspicion, “_You tricked me._”

I did.

“_You were supposed to eat it all by yourself._”

I was.

“_And now I am not sure I will give you the surprise I had planned._”

I didn’t trick him, actually, there has been a _grave_ misunderstanding.

Watching my distress, Su’ete chuckles and nudges his forehead against mine, “_You are terrible. I cannot deny you anything._”

I smile.

Su’ete takes his revenge by lifting me up for the hundredth thousandth time and carrying me out the dining hall and into the parlor.

The beauty of it hitting me once again, I can do no more than admire it. It’s magnificent. And my cage –

Oh.

My cage!

It has been surrounded by all sorts of marvelous things. Patting Su’ete on his shoulder, I beg to be let down, and he obliges my eagerness, chuckling as I run to examine everything all at once.

There are curtains and jewels I have never seen before, pillows with pictures embroidered in them that remind me of my first little pillow that I have liked for ages and took care of because I only had one, until now. There is a ball of red igneous rock that glows purple when I hold it, and a box that winds up – but instead of a jack-in-the-box popping out, several holographic galaxies appear before me depending on which node I hit; each one so expansive that I have to lay down in order to see how far it goes above me.

There are little glowing lights all around the bars of my little golden cage, diming and brightening as if alive. Hanging from one string of lights, is an odd little stick that I pull free. Drawing over my hand with it as if it were a pen, I found that whatever I made glowed under their light but faded when I pulled it away. Giggling, I pulled more things from overhead, ribbons that I could spin above me, and it seemed to hold shape effortlessly, several scarves – one with bells, another with golden hoops, and still more with beads and jewels.

It all seemed too much.

It was probably too much, for all I knew, but I didn’t let it stop me from enjoying it.

I took one of the musically inclined scarves, wrapping it around me and dancing all I wanted as I Sung myself something to keep time. Not just something, but finding myself in the mood to be Caroling once more.

Throwing up one of the ribbons in the air as I spin around, my laughter begins to mix in every cheerful verse until I fall back unto my cage bed.

Instead of one of my new cushions and furs, I find my head perched upon Su’ete’s lap again, himself staring down at me with amusement.

Su’ete laughs, “_Someone get her surprise before she exhausts herself.”_

All _this_ wasn’t the surprise?

Sitting back up, I find one of the male Aseigan (his name is Grumpy) wrestling with a rope at the entrance. He pulls it until I start to hear little growls and…

Barking?

Grumpy falls as the culprit of the noises comes running towards me, flanked by two of the other seven Aseigan. I gasp as the little thing yelps and leaps its way to my little cage, making a mess all over the floor. Su’ete catches it by the scruff before I can even reach for it and begins scolding it something fierce – and by that I mean he growls it into silence.

It is the ugliest thing I have ever seen and I _love it with all my heart_.

The little Yautja hound is nothing more than a puppy – and it looks the size of one in Su’ete’s hands. It begins to whine pathetically and I feel so much tenderness in its voice that I shake Su’ete’s free arm, imploring him to take pity on the little thing.

“_Don’t get soft with it,_” Su’ete says, dropping it onto my lap.

The puppy shakes its tendril mane from Su’ete’s rough handling, and then all at once it begins licking my face and yapping up a storm. I hug it, laughing at the nasal little breaths it takes. It is much larger in my arms than in Su’ete’s hands, but I can manage.

Above us, I can hear Su’ete let out a stern huff, “_She will make sure you keep out of trouble when I am away._”

He says so, but I doubt his reasons were actually that practical. I look up at him with a grateful, if a little knowing, smile.

Su’ete begins to purr despite himself, petting my head.

The puppy also purrs though it is far more baritone than the deep bass of Su’ete. I look back down to find that she is licking her pug-like face as she stares up at me with her huge adorable eyes.

“_She is the runt of a litter. Usually, runts are killed because they are not as effective for hunting, but there is less risk that she will harm you, so I had her spared._”

The poor thing. I can’t imagine anyone looking at something so small and helpless and declaring her a lost cause. I suppose we’re the same in that regard.

“_Her handler certainly bartered for her, regardless…_” Su’ete mutters, and I thought it was funny how annoyed he was at this obstinate dog handler, whoever they are, “_Just be firm with her. If you get hurt for any reason, she will go right back where she came from and I will not be persuaded no matter what you do with your eyes._”

I nodded seriously, before breaking out into a delighted grin. Su’ete rolls his eyes at me, but purrs again as I snuggle up on his lap with my new pet.

I’ve decided to name her Flounder.

* * *

Realistically, I know a Yautja hound, even a runt, is just as likely to kill me as anything else on this planet can.

The same can be said of Su’ete, however, and he’s gone out of his way not to. Just the opposite, in fact, what with his efforts to prolong my life as much as possible. So, I don’t feel particularly worried about Flounder. Everyone else in this house already likes me, and I adore her, so I don’t think there is going to be much risk going forward.

Besides, we all seem to be getting along.

“_This one grows the Naxa you seem to like so much,_” Su’ete says, ushering me beneath the umbrella of a gargantuan tree in what serves as his backyard.

I reach up to one of the low-hanging branches and pull down a particularly juicy looking one. I throw it at Flounder, and she fetches it, making splashes in the pools left behind by the rain.

One thing I’ve been dying to do for ages is to go out into the gardens and the lake.

The rains have stopped; though the clouds have not broken up, it was enough for Su’ete to agree to this little tour. He shows me around the wild gardens, and I discover there are two greenhouses for the farmland that grows whatever else he might need that the trees outside do not provide.

Flounder shakes her wet mane. I’m about as drenched as possible.

“_She stays inside, next time,_” Su’ete threatens.

I frown at him disapprovingly, and he shakes his head up in silent prayer at my defense of her, already so ardent. There’s hardly any harm in her just drying off.

Though I _am_ glad that he said there would be a next time.

Usually, I’m confined to inside the house. I can go wherever I want inside but knowing there was an outside world that Su’ete owned had made me yearn to be outside since I got here. Even when we go to parties, I can’t really see anything, but here –

The lake shines up ahead, and I get a wonderful idea.

I run ahead of Su’ete, with Flounder keeping up with me as we both race to where the lake lies waiting.

“_A’ket, be careful or you will trip – !_”

I try not to feel too bad, the ground is still wet after all and he sounds genuinely concerned – its just that he’s about to be absolutely _furious_ with what I have planned.

Me and Flounder jump into the lake, making the biggest splash imaginable.

I am submerged long enough to appreciate the light coming through the water, before floating up easily. Once above, Flounder starts trying to tug me to the safety of the lake’s edge.

She doesn’t get too far before we both realize that Su’ete is already mid-dive after us.

His splash is much bigger than ours had been.

When he comes back up, Su’ete does not at all look happy.

I scream as he lunges for me, but start to laugh once he wraps one of his massive arms around my waist as he wades us both to shore.

“_You terrible little thing,_” Su’ete says after he sits me down on dry land, “_You did it so that we would all be wet._”

I stick my tongue out at him.

He drags me to the water again, splashing around as much as he can manage with me safe in his arms, “_I could drown you myself and save you the trouble of making me worry!_”

I fall into a fit of giggles, both because he’s unintentionally tickling me every time he swings me around and because he won’t _actually_ drown me, no matter how annoying I am. Flounder can’t tell the difference yet, so she yelps courageously in my defense.

Su’ete pauses long enough to huff, placing his forehead against the back of my head, “_I did not know you could float, A’ket._”

When I was very little, floating in a pool was about the only thing that would make my headaches go away no matter how bad they got. Eventually, I got too sick to keep doing it, but I never forgot how.

I didn’t mean for Su’ete to worry, as much as I like it when he pretends to be mad at me, so I wiggle out of his arms to show him that there wasn’t any danger. I’m not a strong swimmer, but I’m hardly the worst.

Su’ete’s muscles relax.

And then he splashes me square in the face.

I sputter out water as Su’ete laughs in front of me.

Well, so much for his _concern_!

I try to return his rudeness, but I can’t get my own splashes much higher than his chest, which only serves to make Su’ete laugh louder. If his feet weren’t buried into the lakebed I would’ve been able to push him into the water, but even that attempt fails.

He’s the terrible one, not me!

Amused, Su’ete forgets he was upset at me and picks me up high enough so that I am sitting in his arms above the water.

“_Let’s dry you off,_” he says, wading us to the open dining hall.

* * *

We find a more disposable cloth to pat me dry with in the kitchen, which Su’ete generously rubs into my hair despite my protests. Perhaps because of them, since he’s taken to bullying me now.

I take another such discarded cloth and do as much back to him, and for once Su’ete is kneeling close enough so I can use gravity against him.

Su’ete falls to his back. Flounder licks his face, annoying him.

I laugh at them both.

“_I suppose I deserved that.”_

I nod.

Su’ete pulls me down next to him. Flounder licks my face.

“_Devise something more clever, next time.”_

He’s the worst.

But he’s also warm, and all my brilliant gold and jewelry has become cold against my skin, so I do Su’ete the great favor of sticking close to him – which he appreciates by purring against me. There’s a window on the roof, and if the day had been nicer, we would’ve been able to see the sky.

“_Are you hungry yet?_” Su’ete asks after a while. I nod, and he gets up with a grunt before offering his hand for me to take, “_Good. There is still much left over from this morning._”

I suppose it’s not so bad to have dessert for dinner.

The dining table _is_ in fact still full by the time we get there, and while I go to sit in my nest by the lake Su’ete manages to carry two separate plates for us to eat. He offers me one, looking satisfied that I won’t trick him a second time.

Flounder starts begging for scraps.

“_Eat, A’ket._”

One day he’ll let this obsession go.

Disheartened, my new puppy goes back outside. We watch her paw at one of the large floating flowers until she traps a petal between her maw and chomps down.

I shoot Su’ete a questioning glance, wondering if he’s letting my dog get poisoned.

“_It eats the bacteria in the lake and keeps it clean_,” he explains, “_Which is just as well, as I doubt you would have been laughing if a parasite had slithered into the empty space where your brain is supposed to be._”

I stuck my tongue out at him again. He squeezes my nose between his fingers.

“_It is perfectly safe for your annoying little pet to eat._”

Good.

I eat several sweets in a row to thank him. Su’ete chuffs, but his upper tusks smile upward.

Above us, I see the clouds finally give way.

It’s a beautiful sunset.

* * *

“_It should sleep in the cookery._”

Maybe she _should_, but that’s _mean_, so I don’t want her to.

It’s past midnight and now that my fairy godmothers have undone their magic on my person, we’ve retired back to our room – where Su’ete is _trying_ to persuade me to let go of Flounder, but there’s enough room in my bed for the both of us. _I_ didn’t sleep in the kitchen when I first got here, so neither should she.

“_You will be the death of me, Kalei,_” Su’ete groans, touching our foreheads together.

I smile, knowing he’s given in, I let go of Flounder and she leaps into running circles where she wants to sleep. Before she even collapses, she starts snoring, exhausted from her first day in her new home.

Su’ete hands me a long, chrome whistle, “_Use this to teach it some manners._”

I take it, smiling.

Su’ete moves to sit on the floor in front of me, and for a moment I think he wants to tuck me in, as bizarre as that would be. Instead, he hardly looks at me, choosing instead to play with a small velvet bag he’s had between his hands since I stepped out of the bathing room.

I’ve never seen him this pensive.

Su’ete smiles at my worried expression, pushing my hair back behind my ear.

“_Did you like today, A’ket?_”

I nod.

I don’t think I can remember having had a day this fun, if only because I’ve never been _able_ to have one before today.

“_I am glad,_” Su’ete says, and it sounds as though he means it, “_You…_”

He trails off, unable to finish his thought as his earlier apprehension returns. He looks down at his bag again. My concern grows. I wonder if he looks tired because of the day we spent or because of my health. I’d hate for it to be about the latter. It doesn’t seem fair to me, for others to constantly worry about my health.

“_You were not – _” He tries, but stops all the same, and I can tell he’s becoming frustrated with himself. It’s not like him to not say what he means, when he means it. Su’ete leans his head back against the wall and looks away from me, “_Happy_.”

My eyes widen.

Su’ete’s hand clenches around the bag, “_The day I asked you if you wanted more of my blood, you were not happy, even when I thought you were. You started to cry again, once the Aseigan left._”

The night I pretended my parents were alive.

Of course.

I felt bad about it enough at the time. Worse still when I had thought he was upset at me because of it. Fitting, that it’s _actually_ the reason Su’ete can’t bring himself to look at me. Why should he. I just needed to stay put and not make my _feelings_ his _problem_ – and I spectacularly failed step one.

“_I wanted to know why,” _He continued,_ “Then I realized all your Songs have been about the same thing, and it made you sad.” _

I didn’t think it _mattered_.

What did it _matter_, if I were happy or not. Why did Su’ete _care_?

All I had to do for him was –

Sing.

I didn’t like it. The idea that this entire day was a waste of time. That Su’ete only did all this so his little bird would not be _sad_.

All the wonderful things I been given were meant simply to appease me, and it worked, because I projected all sorts of foolish notions of affection. They were like pomegranate seeds, and I ate them up because I’m not used to _living_. All I’ve ever known was how to die, slowly and painfully, and it doesn’t take much to do either.

_“I found out about your little Ooman holiday,” _Su’ete says, and I freeze. I don’t know what I want him to say, just that I look at him and he looks. Scared. Almost.

_“I thought if I gave it to you, then you would be well again._”

I don’t know what I am supposed to feel – relief, maybe, but I don’t. I’m confused. To the point of frustration and I don’t understand why.

Why does he **_care_**?

Why does he care. Why does he keep trying to get me to **_feel_** safe? That wasn’t the deal he made with my Father. When he bought me and called it a **kindness**.

Why does he _try so hard_.

Su’ete seems to laugh at repeating what he said this morning, about me being well again, only in vastly different context. **_I_** want to laugh at the prospect of ever being _well_. But neither of us do. Instead, we sit in nervous silence, and I watch him play with the velvet bag in his hands.

I start to wonder what’s in it. That made him say all this.

It’s not like him. To sit so still. To be silent. I’ve seen him agitated, but even that had energy behind it. I could soothe that with a Song. I don’t think it would work here.

Even if I could Sing. And I don’t think I can. I feel as fidgety as that bag in his hands.

Tentatively. Carefully. I reach for it.

He stills under my touch.

I don’t think I meant to reach for the bag. Not really.

Slowly, Su’ete relaxes. His hand holding mine. I’m glad he’s not shaking anymore, because I don’t want him to feel the way I did. Before I met him and was Dying.

I was always shaking. In the past. Because death was a certainty, but that didn’t mean it was kind enough to tell me when it would come. It scared me. Not knowing when I would die.

I don’t have much reason to be scared anymore.

Su’ete holds my hand. And though he still doesn’t look at me. He runs his thumb over my knuckles. Tightening his grip, as if to keep me.

The velvet bag slips from his open palm to mine.

I look at him. As if to ask whether he meant to give it to me.

Instead of speaking, Su’ete folds my hand over it.

I pull away, just enough to hold it between both of my hands. It’s purple, and I feel the texture between my fingers and discover that it’s soft. Whatever’s inside it, its like it’s barely there, and I can’t for the life of me imagine what it could be.

“_You can open it._”

I nod. Absently. I don’t know if I want to. I don’t want him to think I wanted it, if he hadn’t planned on giving it to me. And yet…

I pull on the string that opens it at the top. It must be important. Or else why would he act like this? It has to be.

I turn the bag over.

A necklace falls into my hand.

Confused. I peer at it. Its pendant is a shimmering little thing. Its metal isn’t the silver or gold that I usually wear. But for some reason it’s familiar. The wings appear to fly upward. Free, it seemed to me. And so unlike the wings I have seen on this planet.

It’s a bird.

A Canary.

“_I made it for you,_” Su’ete says, voice softer than I had ever heard it, “_When I finished, however, I did not like it…I did not feel like it was enough. So, I bought you everything else._”

It’s beautiful.

“_Do you like it, A’ket?_”

I look a him with tears in my eyes.

God, I miss my Father.

I miss Him, more than I can possibly explain. And I don’t know why Su’ete tries. Only that he does. It would be easier if he didn’t. I could hate him.

Instead, Su’ete tells me he wanted to give me Christmas. So I wouldn’t be sad. So I wouldn’t have to cry about my parents. And that he didn’t think that _something he made_ would be enough for me – the person he _treats_ like a person, instead of a pet.

He even _wrapped_ it.

“_I didn’t mean to make you cry, A’ket, I’m –_”

I leaped into Su’ete’s arms. Hugging him.

I didn’t realize I was crying. But it makes sense. Even when I make myself miserable, Su’ete catches me. Holds me tightly.

I don’t know why Su’ete tries, but I know he _cares_. And that’s enough.

It’s more than enough.

“_I failed again_,” Su’ete breathes against my ear.

I pull away to look at him. Incredulous to his self-deprecating ways.

Sue thinks it’s _funny_, running his claws through my hair, “_I wanted to give you all this and make you happy_, _but you already were, when you woke me to tell me your fever broke_.”

I was.

I was Happy.

I _wanted_ to tell him, I was excited to tell him. To surprise him. I spent the entire day blissfully unaware of my own Happiness, because knowing would have spoiled it.

“_I wanted your Happiness, yet_ _nothing I could give you made it so,_” Su’ete says, looking at me with sad green eyes, “_I don’t know what did, and in the end, you gave it to me freely. I can give you nothing in return._”

That’s not true.

I think of all the things Sue has given me. And it almost overwhelms me.

He saved my **_life_**. He gave me a home. More than the things he gave me, he carved out a space for me to live. To breathe. I could’ve been a little bird in a cage, and yet, for some inexplicable reason Sue started to care for me. For my Happiness.

I don’t understand him, how someone could take a little girl from her Father and then turn around and try to mend her broken heart.

I can’t do both.

Closing my eyes. I think of my Mother.

She was right. The more I try to, the harder it is. It could kill me, and then what would be the point? What’s the point.

When I met Sue, he bruised my right shoulder taking me to his alien ship. And now he holds me like I’m too delicate for him to touch, feeling sorry that all his wealth couldn’t buy my Happiness, that he wasn’t even confident enough to forge a bird for me, and call it worthy.

I can’t do both.

So, I won’t.

I wrap the chain of my new necklace around my neck. Letting the pendant. The Canary. Hang close to my heart. 

Sue lets out a laugh, “_You have more magnificent things, A’ket’anu’Kalei, you do not have to humor me._”

I’m not. I don’t like any of it more than this thing he thinks is not enough.

I kiss Su’ete on the cheek. And he purrs, touching our foreheads together like he likes to do.

It’s a gentle action. And I like knowing he’s capable of gentleness, of kindness, whenever I may need him to be.

“_This is supposed to be your day, you foolish little thing,” _Su’ete pulls away, albeit with a reluctant softness in his eyes, “_and you keep trying to best me._”

It’s Christmas, not my birthday.

“_Go to sleep, A’ket,” _he says with finality, petting my head.

Smiling with a new idea, I go back to my too small bed where Flounder has claimed the foot end of it for her own. Somehow, I manage to crawl deep enough so that there is space for Sue. He said I could have whatever I wanted, and this is the last thing.

Su’ete looks at me, amused again, if a little tired, “_You must have lost your little mind when you jumped into the lake._”

Perhaps.

I pat the space beside me.

Chuckling, exhausted, Su’ete sits into the space I’ve made for him.

Though his legs stick out uncomfortably, he fills up the space that my entire body squeezes into. We manage by a miracle not to disturb Flounder in any way.

Satisfied. I lay down, and Sue does in fact tuck me in, to the best of his ability. I don’t think he’s ever done this before, as his idea of doing so is to suffocate me under layers and layers of thick fur. We end up laughing about it, once I’ve pushed off as much as he’s added on.

Su’ete runs his knuckles over my forehead, gently, as I often imagined he did in my fever dreams, “_You are Happy, are you not, A’ket?”_

I’ve decided to be. I’ve been Happy all day. So there isn’t much point to pretending otherwise.

“_You would tell me, if you were not,” _he doesn’t phrase it like a question, but the intent is still there.

I’m not sure. Su’ete seems to want everything at once, and I’m still working on the details. I don’t want to be unhappy, but I cannot guarantee I could tell him if I ever find reason to be.

It makes me as anxious to consider it as it makes him as anxious not to know. We are like jagged pieces of a strange puzzle and I’m not at all sure what kind of picture we will make out, in the end.

Instead of answering, I take Sue’s hand between my own. Keeping it beside my head.

It’s enough for Su’ete, and he begins to purr. He stares down at me like I’m charming, but by morning I’ll find a way to terrorize him, and break the spell.

Tired. I close my eyes. Feeling him as he seems to lull me to sleep. There will be enough time, to figure things out.

That night. I dream of my flower field. Where I am often with my Mother. And my Father.

Su’ete is there.

And I am Happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Total Tag overhaul for the next chapter. 2nd movement is live, and you are now caught up to FFNET in chapters. Updates will now be simultaneous. Follow @ gothitalolita for updates, process, ways you can help my knee surgery debt, and if you want to ask what the heck I'm up to.
> 
> see you (hopefully) next week!

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on twitter @gothitalolita (unless you don't want spoilers, because it is literally littered with spoilers right now)


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